


the soft side of sharp

by Alielle (TheKitteh)



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Best Friends, Blowjobs, Changing POV, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends With Benefits, Idiots in Love, M/M, Minhyuk is the best friend anyone could ever ask for ok, Misunderstandings, Physical Abuse (mentioned), Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning, Underage Drinking, alcohol consumption is not a proper problem solving solution, alternative universe, college kids Jooheon and Changkyun, established Hyunghyuk, handjobs, kihyuk friendship is the most precious thing ever, marginal Jookyun, shitty upbringing background (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:46:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 57,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23802559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKitteh/pseuds/Alielle
Summary: the bad boy AU that:a) nobody asked for,b) isn't that much of a bad boy in all honesty andc) was supposed to be fun and quirky and short and is anything but.Friendship, love, sex, misunderstandings and bits of life all tangled in one, chaotic package.
Relationships: Chae Hyungwon/Lee Minhyuk, Lee Hoseok | Wonho/Yoo Kihyun, Min Yoongi | Suga/Jung Hoseok | J-Hope
Comments: 70
Kudos: 103





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadyhon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadyhon/gifts), [joohonning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joohonning/gifts).



The first time they tumble into each other, it’s after Wonho finds Kihyun in the bathroom late at night. 

The apartment’s miraculously empty when Wonho comes home and he just wants to take a shower, wash the grime of smoke and damp club air off of himself and to drop dead into his bed for some well-earned rest. He’s slightly sore after a small scuffle with some drunken idiot that thought it would be fun to harass some of the kids at the party, his shoulder aching where the guy landed a punch, so at this point he’s only thinking about standing for a good couple of minutes under a hot spray. 

But then, through the open bathroom door, he sees Kihyun standing right in front of the sink, wearing a pair of sweatpants that Wonho is sure belong to him and nothing more and busy cleaning a rather spectacular scrape on his cheek. 

  
And that is what puts a stop to Wonho’s plan of immediately dousing himself with soap and water. He’s immediately tense and he can feel the way his heart picks up speed. 

“The fuck happened to you?” He blurts out and Kihyun jostles, clearly so focused on the task at hand that he didn’t even hear Wonho come back home. Which is saying something, he wasn’t exactly subtle with kicking off his shoes at the entrance.

“Hyung, hey.” Kihyun grimaces lightly as he dabs a pinked up cotton swab against where the skin is scratched bloody red, “Some idiot thought he could go and give Kyunnie some shit when we were out.”

Wonho winces in sympathy for the poor idiot, knowing just all too well that while Kihyun didn’t give a flying fuck about the world, he was fiercely protective of what he deemed his own - and loud-mouthed, with his bigger than you attitude Chagkyun held quite the special spot in Kihyun’s well-guarded heart. 

Still. First things first. 

“C'mere, let me,” he motions with his hand as he steps closer, grabs a clean cotton pad that he rinses with warm water and adds soap to it. “So how did he manage to get one on you?” 

He presses the pad against the scrape and Kihyun winces again despite Wonho being as gentle as possible.

“Fucker got lucky I guess. I got careless, ” He hums in the back of his throat, eyes drooping as he sways on his feet a little and Wonho clicks his tongue in clear disapproval, “Tch, don’t worry. He wasn’t lucky for too long.”

“Sometimes I think you’re more trouble than both of the kids put together,” Wonho teases, touches the scratch gently with his fingers, “You want to tape this? It’s not too bad, give it a couple of days and you’ll be your usual pretty self in no time.”

Kihyun snorts at the sort of compliment, shakes his head and shuffles in closer, resting his forehead on Wonho’s shoulder and takes a deep, deep breath. This isn’t something new and Wonho shifts his weight a little, accommodating Kihyun’s presence in his personal bubble. He tends to get pretty touchy-feely every time after he gets into a fight - that doesn’t happen all too often nowadays, Wonho admits - and needs some extensive physical contact to calm down. 

He’s been Kihyun’s hug buddy for years now, ever since they met at fifteen, and he usually doesn’t mind - it’s nice to have someone he can be affectionate with like this. They’ve always been tactile with each other, always leaning towards one another ,always close by even when there was no need. Jooheon jokes they’re his attached-at-hip hyungs and Hyungown calls them disgustingly adorable, and they don’t really give a damn. Having Kihyun next to him is what Wonho’s used to.

But now Wonho’s feeling mostly sweaty and gross and would prefer to hug it out with his wound up best friend _afte_ r a hot shower. Especially since it’s _really_ late and the club will be closing soon, which means Shownu will be coming home - and if there is one shower hog in this household, that’s Shownu. 

Kihyun’s hands are on his hips, though, having found their way there without Wonho actually noticing, fingers twitching and clenching. He’s thrumming with some sort of restless energy and it somehow makes Wonho’s skin prickle. 

“Go to bed Ki,” Wonho finally mutters tiredly, rubs his nose against Kihyun’s temple, where the short hair tickle his skin, in a attempt to soothe him a little, “I need to clean up after the whole day but I’ll join you and we can talk in a few to get you less worked up, hm?”

“Or,” Kihyun drawls out against his shoulder; his voice is a hot, damp trickle-down Wonho’s spine all of the sudden and his fingers clench, dig into Wonho’s jeans hard enough for him to feel it. “How about I join you inside of that shower and get you more worked up.” 

Wonho pulls back a little, looks at his best friend when Kihyun raises his head. He takes in the half open mouth, the drag of teeth over the lower lip, the evident smoulder in his eyes. There’s no way to misinterpret what Kihyun’s suggesting so out of the blue. This sounds like one hell of a bad idea, one of those Wonho should say no to and just knowing he should decline, it makes Wonho’s blood rush faster, sizzle deliciously under his skin. 

He’s always liked bad ideas.

No more than ten minutes later, under the heady spray of hot water, he learns how Kihyun’s body feels pressed tight and wet against his, how he drags his teeth over Wonho’s skin and bites at his clavicles, clever fingers pulling and tugging at Wonho’s hair. He learns how the weight of Kihyun’s cock feels in his own hand, how the girth of it fits alongside his own; learns how does it feel to hear Kihyun groan and moan into his ear than listen to fake ones on cheap porn videos and how the sting of Kihyun’s teeth against his neck can make Wonho come harder than he can remember. 

\---

Wonho’s known Kihyun for years now, remembers him as a gangly limbed kid in oversized sweaters and more anger in his eyes than the world probably deserved. With more than half a year of age difference between them Kihyun was quicker to send Wonho a death glare and skitter away than have an actual conversation with him. 

He doesn’t remember _why_ he picked interest in the kid in too big clothes that were clear hand me downs, why he started noticing amongst the crowd of all other bleak high schoolers. But he did, one day and then Wonho saw him everywhere, the rest of the world falling away when Kihyun and his poorly concealed anger even showed up on Wonho’s horizon. There was something about him that made Wonho curious but Kihyun’s tendency to try and avoid any sort of trouble made it impossible to even talk. 

Until Wonho found him one day, late in the evening, near one of the construction sites where he was busy setting up empty soju bottles in a neat line and crushing one by one with his foot. His trousers were too small, too short and his ankle was all bloodied where the shattering glass would nick it. He snapped at Wonho when he asked if everything is ok, but for whatever reason he stayed in one place, not running away and wiping furiously at his eyes with his sleeve. 

Wonho still remembers how he remained quiet at the sight of that boy so full of pain and anger, how he mulled on an appropriate course of action. He was already considered a bad influence - barely fifteen and already with bleached hair and pierced lips - in school, so in the end, he just told Kihyun to stay put and wait for him. 

When he came back, his backpack held a couple of cheap beers and miraculously, Kihyun was still there. He got two beers into the boy before he cracked and spilled his guts. There were bruises on the upper parts of his arms, regular and circle-shaped as if someone grabbed him and shook him for hours to no end. His cheek was swollen and the red was barely fading, making Wonho want to reach out and touch. Kihyun’s breathing hitched before he blurted out that he’s gay and that his family took it as fabulously as expected and then, he laughed as bitterly as no teen ever should and in a moment of insanity, Wonho wrapped an arm around his boney shoulders, pressed their foreheads together. He took a breath and a long, long look into Kihyun's wide eyes and he promised to never let him go, to never leave him. 

Over a flutter of tear damp lashes, just like that, Kihyun’s became a fixture in his life then, someone _his_ to protect and when two years later Wonho left the remains of his own family to go to Seoul so did Kihyun, wrapped tight under Wonho’s arm, to the fading, angry yelling of his father.

Fast forward a couple years later, they’re pretty much inseparable and their living conditions are … peculiar, to say the least. Neither of the guys living together in the cramped apartment has a good paying job or a good education under their belts. They hang out in parks during warmer days, wearing black and leather, more often than not drinking to the point where they looked for some sort of trouble. 

Kihyun actually tends to bitch about the constant mess, but in all honesty five guys in one apartment could mean a total dumpster. And it’s not actually _that_ bad, Wonho thinks. And it’s always amusing to see Kihyun get all freaky about keeping things clean, when the guy dropped out of school at the first chance and did god knows what to earn money, and still bitches about Hyungwon leaving empty cereal bowls around the table and not in the sink. 

Hyungwon’s one of their flatmates and boyfriend to Minhyuk, who befriended and helped Kihyun out when he apparently went homeless for a month or so, during Wonho’s enlistment. He’s all sorts of annoying with how good looking and perfectly composed he is, but a good guy over all. Minhyuk works in a coffee house and Hyungwon supposedly helped out in a bakery in the same neighborhood; Wonho’s not entirely sure how that one works because Hyungwon sleeps till noon and disappears for the rest of the day, but he brings food and rent money so Wonho’s not going to look that gifted horse in the mouth. They occupy the biggest spare bedroom in the flat, which is not actually anything too fancy, but they’re the only ones to have an actual double bed.

(Wonho and Kihyun share the tiny room next to theirs and by now he has became intimately familiar with the sounds of aformentioned two fucking. Wonho could live without how hard Minhyuk likes it but he’s long ago learned to take things in a stride.)

Then there’s the eldest of them - Shownu, who is actually the one who signed the contract for the flat and who is Wonho’s friend from the army. They started off with just the two of them, barely making ends meet, before the rest crashed into their lives. 

Earlier on, Shownu wanted to be a dancer, supposedly was really good at it until some sort of accident left him with a broken ankle and torn ligaments. Shownu was pretty tight lipped about the details of it, but it was clear that the injuries rendered him unable to dance anymore, at least professionally - and now he was the only one of them with a sort of steady job, running the bar in a club a few streets over and he’s popular, if the tips he gets on a daily basis is any indication. He’s quiet, calm and probably the only reason they haven’t been kicked out of the building just yet. With his gentle eyes and lovely smile he can charm all the old ladies that live above not to complain about the occasional stench of weed or the abundance of empty soju bottles after a weekend on the ground beneath their tiny balcony. 

Wonho works in the same club sometimes; he’s a call in for their regular bouncer or when there’s a pre-planned party with more than usual guests. It’s how he found Kihyun again after getting discharged, with Minhyuk and Hyungwon in tow, when they came in for some celebration or something, even if at first Wonho didn’t actually recognize him.

It’s not like he could, in his defense. 

Because those two years changed Kihyun _a lot._

Gone were the oversized sweaters and unshapely pants and in were black, tight jeans and even tighter shirts. The choir-boy hair was a mere memory, replaced by longer tresses on top and an undercut. Kihyun looked sharp, sharper than anyone had the right to be, all angular angles and glass-cut lines and Wonho would never think to look for his young friend he left two years earlier in this particular young man.

Well. At least not until Kihyun punched him in the shoulder with all his might and accused him of breaking his promise, seething through clenched teeth _“you said you’re never letting go, was all that empty shit to you?”_ and Wonho did a double take so fast he nearly got whiplash. 

Somehow, over the two or three months since that night at the club, the remaining three came to live together with Wonho and Shownu. They started by sleeping over when they stayed up late, then they all had spare toothbrushes in the bathroom and then Wonho just outright asked Kihyun to move in. Kihyun winced, said he wouldn’t leave Minyuk and Hyungwon, not after they picked his drunk ass off the street one night and gave him a place in their tiny flat. So the offer got extended to the three of them. Splitting bills and groceries five ways was easier anyway and nowadays the apartment always seemed to be bustling with life, someone always being home. 

It took Wonho a while to rediscover Kihyun - to learn that his anger never sizzled out completely, that it was always there right underneath his skin but he carried it as a weapon rather than a wound. To learn that he would get into more fights than it was worth back in the day or that his knuckles were marred with tiny scars from throwing punches. It was the same Kihyun the left and yet he’s someone completely different, but Wonho’s just glad to have his friend back so even when Kihyun comes home with bloodied hands or a swollen eye, Wonho does what he always did - takes care of him the best way he can. He always waits for Kihyun to shower before he patches him up, cleans whatever scrape is fresh or puts compresses on his hands. He doesn’t demand promises that this is the last time, it’s not his place or right to do so and Kihyun doesn’t give them nor is he apologetic. But once everything’s taken care of, once he’s in clean clothes and all washed up, Kihyun always presses in closer, wounds himself around Wonho’s frame and tries to breathe and Wonho just holds him during those times, rubs the small of his back and doesn’t say anything. It’s just a … a Kihyun thing. And Kihyun doesn’t ask for much, never has, so if he needs some physical contact after he beat the shit out of someone? It’s not like it’s a chore. 

Back to the strange living arrangements, on top of everything, there was also the weird addition of Jooheon and Changkyun who did not exactly live with them, due to their young age and actually caring parents, but could have been considering how often they’re there. Wonho’s not entirely sure how the hell did he and Shownu end up saving those two from getting their asses handed to them from some drunken college kids, but after all was dealt with, they took them home, gave them the remains of Kihyun’s stew as they calmed down and months later, those two are more of a permanent fixture in their lives than not. They’re snarky and smart and all five of them adore them and allow them to bum around after school on their sofa, grumbling over their homework more often than not. 

Thing is, while everyone likes the boys, it was Kihyun who developed a special sort of attachment to them - Wonho thought it was rather understandable, considering his own history - and he pressed for them to continue with their education, and the fights about Jooheon and Changkyun finishing schools were actual stuff nightmares were made of. But the five of them adults are all dropouts, grabbing shitty jobs here and there to make ends meet and in a rare show of unity they all backed Kihyun up on that. Those kids are brilliant, each in their own right, if jaded as fuck, and deserved better and so they caved when threatened with the “ _you will not be allowed to come here_ ” card. 

And now, at 24, that was Wonho’s life now, somewhat steady, somewhat fixed and predictable. They go around their own days, meet up, drink up or smoke, watching reruns of crappy dramas or music shows, and apparently trying to keep two college kids out of too much trouble. 

Until, that is, Kihyun showed him how it felt to come with the name of his best friend on his tongue, throwing predictability out of the window. 

\---

“ _Ooh~_ someone here had sex yesterday!” 

It’s the day after he has clearly lost his mind, barely 7 o’clock in the morning on a Saturday and Kihyun is immediately tempted to throw the coffee mug at Minhyuk’s head. He doesn’t because one, there’s still coffee in it and two, it’s the good kind - the one they save for weekends only - and finally, three, Minhyuk’s not really worth it. 

He also chooses to ignore the remark completely. 

“Yes, yes, no need to brag, I heard you quite well during the night when I came home. Again, I might say.” He says instead and opens the small kitchen window. He grabs a cigarette and lights it, washes down the first inhale of smoke with the hot black coffee. “You know, sometimes I think you’re being that loud on purpose.” 

“And you’d be loud too if you had Hyungwon’s…”

Kihyun is quick to cut him off, because Minhyuk’s got that stupidly dreamy look on his face which means he’s thinking of all the obscenities that would happen in their bed, and Kihyun’s way too sober to listen to that. Also, he actually had the dubious pleasure of seeing some of the said obscenities in person one time too many.

“I’m not talking about Hyungwon’s magic dick, not now, not ever.” He waves his hand to make a point, the cigarette’s lit end making a pretty arch in the air. “You two traumatized me enough with fucking like rabbits all over the previous place.” 

“Yes well. I’d say it’s just petty jealousy talking through you, but you actually look all sorts of glowy, so spill.” Mihuk grins, going through the cupboards for anything quick and semi-fresh to eat. He’s got an extra shift starting soon, Kihyun knows, and the only reason he’s agreed to it is that he got promised an extra bonus. Any other time and Kihyun would help him out with it, but since Min’s decided to be a dick first thing in the morning, he’s all good with letting him scrounge up something all on his own. Of course, the bright-eyed bastard doesn’t let go, despite rummaging through the cabinets. “Look at you, you little repressed shit. Going all out finally.” He points to Kihyun’s cheek with a spoon, and the teasing light falters from his eye, replaced with something significantly sharper “ That from him?”

Kihyun snorts and rolls his eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t fall out of his head, and Minhyuk’s eyes immediately soften as he chuckles. While overprotective, Minhyuk’s being a jackass, as he knows too damn well that if anyone would raise a hand at Kihyun like that, they would probably end up with a broken nose and not a chance at sex. Kihyun debates telling him the truth, but he didn’t exactly talk to Wonho just yet - the other’s still knocked out for the count in his bed and even Kihyun clambering down the ladder from the top bunk didn’t cause him to stir. He must have been exhausted the night before and Kihyun didn’t want to rob his hyung out of much needed sleep.

“Oh come on, we’re best friends, you need to give me something here!” Minhyuk licks the spoon after making his own coffee and then has the gall to actually poke Kihyun in the ribs with it. Cheeky fucker. 

“I don’t know who told you that lie, we barely tolerate each other,” Kihyun swaps at him and Minhyuk pouts. It would be more effective if by now, Kihyun didn’t know first hand all of his fake pouts and faces that he pulls to get what he wants. “Now stop making a fuss, you’ll wake up Shownu hyung. Or worse, Hyungwon, and after he fucked your brains out yesterday,too.” 

Minhyuk’s face does something complicated - part guilt, part pride, part worry - and by some miracle he does drop the subject of Kihyun getting potentially - sort of- laid. Kihyun’s mildly curious if it’s the mention of Shownu or Wonnie that does it, because Shownu usually gets back home at crack of dawn and they all tiptoe around not to wake him, knowing he needs his rest. And Hyungwon, for all his blasé and seemingly calm personality, can be pretty damn scary when woken up too early.

He’s considering this a win either way.

“So what’s with the,” Minhyuk makes a gesture towards Kihyun’s cheek after he found a croissant from yesterday’s batch; he’s smart after all, knows where to pick his battles and he knows Kihyun is as stubborn as a mule and won’t actually say a word if he doesn’t want. “Someone looked at you wrong yesterday?” 

“Nah.” Kihyun stubs out the cigarette, “Some dick got drunk stupid and started throwing slurs at Changkyun when we were on our way back. Talked shit about him going down on me for money and such.”

Minhyuk clucks his tongue around the pastry, before washes it down with coffee. It’s an unpleasantly common occurrence, Kyun’s a pretty boy, despite his scary scowl and more than once he got bullied for mere breathing. And their whole household knows that Kihyun goes near mental whenever he gets wind that he got pestered again and this time some poor idiot ran his mouth in the worst company ever. It’s not too hard to connect the dots.

“I’m sure he was deeply grateful for your help,” Mihyunk grins and earns himself one more eye roll.

“Tch,” Kihyun snorts into his drink, “That little shit bitched at me until I got him home. He’s going to be insufferable for the rest of the weekend.”

“Talking ‘bout Kyunnie?” Wonho’s voice causes both of them to turn towards the door. Wonho looks sort of awake, all sorts of rumpled and bleary-eyed. Clearly, he just rolled out of bed and he still manages to make that stupidly complicated handshake he and Minhyuk have come up with. It's not fair, Kihyun thinks, to look this cute so early in the morning. Then, Wonho looks around in a sleepy, adorable kind of confusion, wrinkles his nose as he sniffs around, “Coffee?” 

“Still some left,” Kihyun points to the jug he made earlier and Wonho makes a happy noise, stumbling inside more to get himself a mug. 

Almost immediately, Kihyun clenches his teeth as Wonho shuffles around the tiny kitchen - everything’s so fucking tiny in this place - eyes drawn to where the stretched out collar of his shirt drops, the dark mark on his pale skin full on display. He instantly braces himself, because Minhyuk’s not an idiot and he’s definitely not blind. 

“Looks like you had fun yesterday, hyung.'' And there it is, almost like clockwork. Wonho blinks at Minhyuk above the rim of his mug, still confused until Minhyuk grins like a madman and gestures to the bite mark. “You like them feisty, huh?”

Kihyun’s stomach ties itself in several unpleasant knots and his fingers clench unconsciously around his own mug when Wonho reaches out and touches the spot gently, as if he has forgotten that he’s wearing the perfect imprint of Kihyun’s teeth. He hums a little in the back of his throat, all the while looking innocent and sleep-soft as he takes the first sip of coffee.

“Ah, Min.” He says finally, coming to stand at the countertop near Kihyun, bumping their hips together, “If you wanna know that bad, I’ll tell you what it is.” 

Kihyun feels like dying right there and then, on the other hand, Minhyuk looks like an over-excited puppy that just got a bone, almost squeaking out a “Yeah?” 

“None of your fucking business,” Wonho grins and it makes Kihyun snort into his own drink. 

“Aw man, you both suck!” 

Wonho’s chuckle lasts longer than the cuss out Minhyuk gives them both - he’s still careful not to slam any door on the way out, the previous mention of Shownu and Hyungwon sleeping effectively enough. As soon as Minhyuk is gone from the flat, Kihyun’s settled down, those knots slowly untangling themselves and his shoulders losing some of their tension. For a moment the both of them remain silent, Wonho slurping his drink loudly as Kihyun quietly finishes his own. It’s a nice, warm, quiet and coffee smelling bubble they are in, arms brushing against each other and it’s a much better way to start off a Saturday than dealing with Minhyuk, Kihyun thinks.

“I thought you might sleep in today,” Kihyun finally says as he polishes off the remains of his drink. “It was pretty late yesterday when you came home, why are you up already, hyung?”

That’s one way to approach the subject, he thinks. Wonho hums in the back of his throat again before he salutes Kihyun with the mug. “This can wake the dead, not just me.” 

“Nah, can’t wake Won for shit. By the way, thanks.” He makes a gesture with his chin in the direction where Minhyuk left before he sighs and leans into Wonho’s side, resting his head against his shoulder, rubs his temple a little over the curve of it. “Wasn’t sure what to tell him.”

Wonho merely presses his cheek against the top of Kihyun’s head, worming one arm around Kihyun's waist, taking everything in a stride like only he does, before speaking out, “What goes on between you and me, is between me and you, Ki.” 

_\---_

Kihyun doesn’t really think about that rushed, slightly clumsy handjob after that day anymore as they carry on with their lives like they always do. 

While it was a clear moment of insanity on his end, it didn’t hinder their relationship or brought up any stupid questions or any doubts. Kihyun is glad for that; he’s not entirely certain if he would handle it well. He’s self-aware enough to know how fucked up some of his coping mechanisms are - and how many of them are tied directly to Wonho and just how unhealthy that is. 

With growing up shunned and misunderstood by his family and most of the kids at school, Kihyun always latched onto those few who got past all of his shields and prickly defenses and actually _cared_ for him. He clung to them like they were his lifeline. 

Though honestly, the list wasn’t too long.

First, it was Yoongi, a kid a couple of months older, who was the only one to step in for Kihyun when he got harassed after school, shoved into the school’s side wall by an overgrown dick of a senior. He was Kihyun’s size but he spat and punched as if he could crush the world and Kihyun immediately loved him for that. Yoongi remained his one true friend, his salvation of sorts until his family moved out when they were thirteen. 

They stayed in touch as best as they could, but it’s still been two lonely years of conflicts at home and trouble at school, before he somehow beeped on Wonho’s radar. Wonho already had that bad boy reputation everyone talked about, based on his bleached hair and piercings and skipping more class than actually attending, girls from good families fawning over him and boys hating him and being envious of him at the same time. 

Kihyun was envious too - of that raised chin, of that effortless blasé Wonho had, of how he never really seemed to give a damn about what others thought. Of how he walked through life and corridors with a swagger Kihyun could never pull off. 

How did he even notice Kihyun? How come he was right there when Kihyun was a breath from throwing away his whole life, a second from running away from everything, feeling completely alone and overwhelmed, his arms bruised and aching after making the disastrous decision to come clean in front of his father and brother…. ? 

With brain fuzzy on beer and tears stinging his eyes, Kihyun told the resident bad boy everything.  
Got held close, closer than he’d ever expected, the embrace steady and secure. Wonho’s eyes were so damn earnest from up close and so was his voice, when he promised Kihyun to always be with him. 

What did Kihyun do to earn that …? 

Almost 9 years later and Kihyun never really got the answer to that question, but somehow they’re still best friends and he really likes Minhyuk, likes Shownu and Hyungwon and is grateful to have them in his life, he would cut off his own hands for the two stubborn kids, but Wonho’s Wonho and selfishly, Kihyun always thought of Wonho as _his,_ in a way. 

It’s not fair to Wonho that Kihyun made him a tether, he knows that. But without Wonho, it was just too easy to lose himself in the very first fight, or the nearest, fullest bottle; to lose himself, period. The two years of Wonho’s enlistment were enough of a proof for that, with Kihyun ending up piss-drunk and with a split lip and a swollen eye on the street in the very first month. 

He’ll be forever grateful to Minhyuk for quite literally pulling him out of a ditch when Min himself didn’t have much and he and Hyungwon barely made ends meet. Those two didn’t have it the easiest to begin with and with Kihyun in tow, uneducated and not really fit for any decent-paying job, it wasn’t easy at first. But the thing about Minhyuk was that he was a good person - down to the bone. He was a joker, a teaser, but he was inherently _good_ which is why he held out a hand to Kihyun when most people walked by. He cleaned Kihyun up and offered a place to stay, they both offered him warmth and kindness Kihyun hadn't experienced in a while.  
He learned how to cook; he had the time, pretty much jobless when they took him in. 

The walk-in-during-sex thing was annoying, sure, because there were so many times you could be greeted by the sight of Minhyuk’s ass or Hyungwon’s dick out before you wanted to gouge your eyes out, but in the grand scheme of things, Kihyun could have ended in a much worse place. 

He never could find a job for too long; especially when he styled his clothes to match with how Wonho used to dress - which was more leather and black than he ever owned. He experimented with hair colors, from bright reds to grey before he settled on a pitch-black shade. People didn’t like his outfits or the roughly cut hair or the piercings in his ear. Hyungwon joked more than once that Kihyun grew into his distaste of the world and it showed perfectly in his scowl. There could be some truth in that.

Luck seemed to be on his side one night when he was out drinking in some bar, frequented by college kids and a guy twice his size was harassing a girl near where Kihyun sat. 

No one seemed to pay them any mind, some of the guy’s friends laughing and cheering him on and Kihyun slipped from the seat at the bar, walked up and slid an arm over the girl’s shaking shoulder. He held her close, despite how tense she was and despite the teary-eyed look she gave him and Kihyun merely looked the guy up and down and asked if he was, by any chance, looking for any trouble messing with his girl. 

It was a far reach but it worked and the guy backed out in a second. Kihyun remained in place until the drunken boys scattered away and only then he immediately stepped back and apologized for scaring the girl. She was wide-eyed and her breathing was heavy, her hands shaking when she wrapped her arms around herself. When Kihyun didn’t do anything more, just stood there in front of her patiently waiting, she looked back up at him and quietly, very quietly asked if he could wait, maybe, with her until her group of friends came.

Kihyun brought her back to the bar, ordered her some water with lemon and wrapped his jacket around her shoulders as they waited. Her friends appeared and happily collected her - completely oblivious to her shaken state - not long after and that was pretty much it. 

Except he saw that very same girl two weeks later and she waved at him and pointed at him and somehow, months later, Kihyun ended up as some sort of a designated “call on bad boy boyfriend” for college girls who just wanted to have a good time. It was hardly a job; it wasn’t regular but apparently the girls that contacted him had money so at least it paid well. And in all honesty, sitting in a bar having a beer or two (never more) while watching a girl, out of the corner of his eye like a hawk, wrap an arm for a couple of hours wasn’t _exactly_ punishment. 

When Hyungwon caught wind of his “job” he laughed so much he nearly hacked up a lung and Kihyun cussed him out for all eternity. He settled for throwing an empty can at his head. He missed, of course. 

So that was how things went, with Kihyun somehow settling into a life with Minhyuk and Hyungwon, doing his not overly important things. He hooked up a few times with some guys, firstly more of curiosity and then whenever trouble found him - there was something about getting in a fight that wound him up like nothing else, made his skin feel too tight over his bones. Whenever he found a guy after a fight, it was always fast and rough and one of the few times he really felt alive. 

But it was only when Kihyun saw Wonho by a complete accident, dressed in a very nice club uniform - and he was so much bigger than he remembered Wonho to be but still so easy to recognize - at a club some girls invited them to as a way to pay back for Kihyun’s favors, when something slotted just right in his life. When Wonho didn’t recognize _him_ , his dark eyes just slipping over his frame as he waved him in, Kihyun punched him in the arm to Minhyuk’s confusion and Hyungwon’s snort. He snapped some words out and felt a ball of satisfaction unfurl within him when he finally registered in Wonho’s mind. 

And then Wonho hugged him, just took him all in; and when Kihyun curled his fists at the small of his back, it felt better than all those chance encounters he had combined.

After everything, once they all move in together, for the first time in his life, Kihyun can honestly say this is the closest to being happy he’s ever been. He’s got a very strange family; everyone with their load of baggage (he’s still uncertain about the scars on Minhyuk’s arms and the way Jooheon sometimes falls silent, closes off when someone moves too fast). He stopped looking for a quick fuck when he’s running high on adrenaline, instead goes home and if Wonho’s there, Kihyun tends to gravitate towards him. He always latches on, settles in close, and lets the warmth of Wonho’s body, the weight of Wonho’s arm that always ends up wrapped around Kihyun’s shoulders, ground him. And if Wonho’s not there if he’s out working, Kihyun goes about his evening, and when the time for sleep comes, crawls into Wonho’s bed, burrows into his covers and it’s almost the same.

He always leaves when he hears the front door opening, makes it to his own bunk and pretends he’s asleep.

Wonho pretends his bed isn’t still warm and messed up and that’s how they go with things around here.

So no, Kihyun doesn’t really think anything of the showery handjob when it doesn’t change anything between them. Kihyun goes on about his days as usual, Wonho’s still his hyung. He sure doesn’t expect it to happen again.

\---

Except it does. 

Well.

Sort of.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s well past midnight and even lover boys from the next room are asleep and Kihyun is pretty much about to commit murder. On the lower bunk, Wonho twists and turns, has been for what seems a whole ass eternity, making the whole frame creak with every single movement. And Kihyun is insanely patient, he really is when it comes to Wonho, but if he won’t stop and let him sleep, he will go down there himself and strangle his friend.

_ Squeeeeek. Scriiiiiiiitch.  _

“For fuck’s sake hyung, go the fuck to sleep,” he hisses viciously, almost throwing himself over the barrister and peeking into bunk below. 

“Shit, sorry,” Wonho rasps and the apology is thick in his voice, bubbling right there under annoyance and weary, “Sorry Ki, I just… I can’t get to sleep.”

“Count the fucking sheep or something,” Kihyun groans as he remains half-hanging there, the wooden barrister digging painfully into his stomach, “Read on your damn phone, go jerk off in the bathroom, I don’t fucking care, hyung, just stop moving the whole fucking thing, it’s driving me crazy and I need to sleep!” 

Wonho makes a pained sort of noise and Kihyun can see how he dramatically throws one arm over his eyes. 

“Tried the sheep thing, don’t wanna read, it ain’t fun to jerk off alone anymore and I’m so fucking tired I can  _ hear _ my hair grow and it’s distracting me to the point where I can’t fucking sleep.” He spits out and Kihyun can hear the frustration and it makes his own skin itch in sympathy. He really gets it, he does. He’s tired too and he wants to sleep as well, but unless Wonho settles in his bunk and stops moving with every breath, that won’t be happening any time soon. 

Kihyun, in a manner no less dramatic than Wonho’s, lies back again and runs a hand over his face. Then he blinks in the dark, mind rewinding back to a particular phrase that’s been said and he sits up again quickly, barely stopping before he slams his head against the ceiling. 

“Hyung?” He whisper-calls as he leans out one more time and the bed frame squeaks again and if that isn’t the most annoying sound in the whole world, Kihyun doesn’t know what is. But then Wonho’s head is visible in the semi dark and even from up there Kihyun can see the exhaustion etched into the usually soft lines of his face, the shadows growing under his eyes and his resolve just reaffirms itself. 

He knows, come morning, he’ll blame this on the overpowering need to get some sleep and he knows this is a bad idea, but Kihyun’s pretty much out of good ones. 

Besides, it’s not like an idea being bad ever stopped him before in his life. 

And well, not like this would be  _ completely _ uncharted territory. 

“What if I helped?” He whispers again and feels something warm curl low in the depth of his stomach at the sheer suggestion. 

“Like what, make me warm milk?” Wonho snorts and Kihyun is half tempted to throw his pillow at him and tell him to go and fuck himself, but that would not solve anything here, “I think we outgrew that particular phase, but…”

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up right now and I’ll blow you.” Kihyun blurts out and Wonho sort of chokes, manages to flail while laying on his back and  _ almost _ falls out of the bed.

“What?” He hisses out in surprise and disbelief, and … hey, it’s not a  _ no, _ Kihyun notices. 

“You said it’s not fun, jerking off alone. So let me help.” He doesn’t really wait for any answer but climbs down the narrow ladder and once he’s on the ground the look Wonho’s giving him is part-disbelief and part-something-completely-different that Kihyun  _ likes _ . “I want to sleep and I won’t until you calm the fuck down.”

“Wow,” Wonho snorts, backs up in his bed a little as Kihyun slips into the bunk, crawls in all over him. The disbelief is gone from his eyes and replaced with something darker and sharper, something that makes Kihyun’s lips curl in a smile. He’s leaning back on his elbows, his sleep shirt pulled tight across his torso, “You sure can make a guy feel special, Kihyun, that’s why you single all the time? It’s ‘cause of the way you run your mouth?” 

“Please hyung, believe me, my mouth is definitely  _ not _ the reason why I’m single,” Kihyun snorts and wiggles a little, kicks the blanket off of Wonho’s legs. He sits in his lap and takes a moment to appreciate the view. 

Wonho’s always been beautiful, Kihyun muses as he bites at his lip in thought. From a very attractive teen he grew into a unfairly attractive young man and oh, how well he knows it, the asshole. Even the way Wonho raises one brow is pretty, even that smug look on his face. 

“You're gonna do good on your offer or was that all talk?” He asks, voice completely casual but there’s the miniscule, barely there twitch of his hips that Kihyun wouldn’t even register if he wasn’t seated right there. 

He sort of wants to pinch Wonho’s side for being an ass, but he also wants to sort of blow Wonho’s mind for the same reason. He leans forward, presses Wonho back onto the pillow; leans close enough for his lips to drag against one of Wonho’s ears. For a moment he doesn’t say anything, just breathes, feels how tightly they’re pressed together like that, in a dark and warm and enclosed space.

Feels Wonho’s hips twitch again, a barely there roll; but it’s enough to feel him grow harder with every little move, right there against Kihyun’s boxers. 

“Just,- don’t pull my hair,” he whispers through his teeth finally and Wonho makes a noise of agreement. He seems to ponder over something for a second, before he pulls his arms up and puts his hands behind his head. 

Kihyun nods once, nips lightly at the hinge of Wonho’s jaw and shimmies down the length of his body. He’s almost sorry he’s about to pretty much rush it, because he’s probably missing out on some amazing display of Wonho’s muscles hidden underneath the threadbare shirt. He hooks his fingers over the elastic band of Wonho’s briefs and tugs them, with a little help, down Wonho’s legs. He gets distracted a little by the tattoo on Wonho’s thigh, smoothes his fingers over it and feels the muscle underneath twitch. 

It’s a little uneven, the writing a little bumpy - clearly done carelessly - but it’s pretty, all harsh black letters on smooth milky white skin. He trails his fingers up, over all the expanse of the muscle, and he can feel it quiver under his fingertips. In that rushed joined shower he didn’t really have the time to admire, but well, Wonho’s strange obsession with manscaping really pays off. Kihyun’s best friend has always been beautiful and like this, like this, for a moment he’s Kihyun’s to admire. His skin is warm, soft and so, so tempting that Kihyun wants to touch him all over, wants to trace the bumps of his ribs, the dip of his waist, the thick, strong planes of his legs.

“You're so pretty, hyung” he whispers without thinking, reaching out with his other hand to wrap it lightly around Wonho’s cock. He gives it a light tug, a stroke or two, tests it’s weight and girth as Wonho gives out a long, heavy breath. “So fucking pretty.” 

Wonho’s half-hard when Kihyun leans in finally, opens his mouth to take him in. His hips jerk more violently now and Kihyun uses his free hand to hold him down, as makes a displeased sound in the back of his throat. 

“Shit, fuck, sorry,” Wonho mutters from above and he sounds oddly breathless for how little Kihyun has done so far, “Been a while.”

_ Ah, _ Kihyun thinks, feeling strangely pleased as he hears that,  _ okay then _ .

It’s completely different to feel someone go fully hard in his mouth, in comparison to his hand. It’s a heady feeling, in a way, knowing that he’s currently the sole reason someone is breathing that hard, trying that bad to contain every little groan and gasp as Kihyun bobs his head slowly, drags his lips up and down the shaft. He applies a little more pressure at the base, before going up again, pulls off only to drag his tongue around the tip. 

When he peeks up, Wonho’s hands have moved, now clutching to the sides of his pillow; he can see Wonho’s arms straining when Kihyun takes a moment of his time to lay tiny, soft kitten licks, to trace the veins and ridges with his tongue, trying to judge by noises and reactions what Wonho likes. 

It doesn’t take Kihyun long to figure out. 

He gets the best reactions - the tiny punched out gasps, the torn wisps of Kihyun’s name - once he really gets to it. Kihyun has never had too much of a gag reflex to begin with and the way Wonho jerks when Kihyun takes him all the way down - the tips of his nose brushing against Wonho’s navel -the way he bites down on one fist and curls the other so tight around the pillowcase it’s a miracle he doesn’t tear it?

It’s an ego boost, to be able to wind someone up that bad and so, he wraps his hands around Wonho’s hips, holds them down and hollows his cheeks. 

“Fuck, Ki,” Wonho groans, loud and long and with one last clear bit of his mind Kihyun sort of hopes those two assholes in the room can hear him, but then he remembers neither of them have any shame to speak of and the prettiness of Wonho’s noises would be lost on them. Still, Wonho sounds all kinds of beautiful like that and Kihyun looks up again in curiosity. 

And oh, Wonho’s a sight. His head is thrown back and there’s a lovely red flush down his neck, visible even in the dark room and contrasting to the white of his shirt. He can make out the veins in the long, strong column of it and if he didn’t have his mouth full, literally, he’d be itching to press his teeth there, to lick along the rabbit-fast pulse and feel it flutter against his tongue. 

His fingers clench tighter over Wonho’s hips as he rolls them almost unconsciously. He remembers that mark he left on Wonho’s skin back then, in the shower, how it looked all dark and red, blood pulled to the surface the next morning in morning’s light and under Minhyuk’s gaze. 

A hum builds in his throat as he remembers that, remembers the feel of Wonho coming with Kihyun’s name punched out of him and he relaxes his jaw even more, leans that extra inch further so that he can feel Wonho’s cock nudge the back of his throat. The sound it draws from him is beautiful, gut-wrenching and it curls around Kihyun’s senses like silk. 

He almost regrets telling Wonho to keep his hands to himself, almost misses the feel of strong hands pulling and tugging and holding, before Wonho makes a very peculiar, broken off sound in the back of his throat - and Kihyun reads it for what it is, backs off a little just in time for the first spurt of come to land on his tongue. While that wasn’t exactly his plan, Kihyun has learned to roll with any punches, besides it’s common courtesy, really, and so he doesn’t pull off completely, keeps up the light suckling and swallowing motion as Wonho’s vocabulary is suddenly limited to Kihyun’s name only. 

He pays attention when Wonho’s voice changes from breathless to something more of a warning and only then he pulls off completely, drags in a long breath through his mouth. 

Kihyun rests his forehead against Wonho’s thigh, blinking rapidly as Wonho catches his breath. 

“...touch you now?” Wonho half-rasps and Kihyun blinks, before he gives a tiny nod. Almost immediately, gentle fingers twine in his hair, petting his head clumsily. 

He feels more and more twitchy with every little touch and he starts to feel too hot, too uncomfortable with how he’s cramped in the bunk, painfully aware of how sticky and hot it is where his skin touches Wonho’s. The taste of come is still there on his tongue, scratching at the back of his throat when he finally raises his head. Wonho’s looking at him in a way that makes Kihyun think he’s not really seeing him, all hazy and soft and that’s, that’s not something Kihyun wants to deal with right now. He pushes himself off, feels how his shirt is damp with sweat and clings to his chest where it was pressed against Wonho’s leg. He slowly crawls out of Wonho’s bunk, covering his friend with the previously discarded blankets. 

“Kihyun?” Wonho blinks, still slightly out of it and fuzzy, clearly blissed out enough to stumble into sleep within the next five minutes.

Kihyun clears his throat a little, “I’m going... gotta brush my teeth,” he says and saunters away, ignoring the soft, sleepy sound Wonho makes. It could be him falling asleep, not necessarily protesting at Kihyun bailing like that, after all. 

Once he’s in the bathroom, the door closed behind him, Kihyun ignores his reflection in the mirror. He ignores the tingle of his lips, the burn he can feel in his cheeks and the phantom touch in his hair - instead, he takes a deep, deep breath. 

When he does that, he can still smell Wonho’s skin, that cheap soap he uses. 

“Fuck,” he groans quietly, pressing the heel of his hand against the damp spot over his boxers. 

Kihyun closes his eyes, remembers the beautiful line of Wonho’s neck, the sound of Kihyun’s name; with a punched out sigh, he shimmies his boxers off, takes himself in one hand and digs his teeth into the fist of the other.

\---

Unlike that time in the shower, Wonho actually brings the subject up the following night. Kihyun’s settling in, wiggling in his bed a bit and Wonho’s on his phone, catching up on some news of the day. Just because he can be a bit of a dick, Wonho waits for Kihyun to settle before he calls out, eyes still on the bright screen. But he’s been thinking about the previous night and how reckless - even for him - Kihyun has been. 

Finally he calls out, “You know, what we did yesterday was pretty fucking stupid.”

Wonho waits for the tiny annoyed groan from above, the creak of bed as Kihyun leaves his nice spot and when Wonho looks from his phone, there he is, peeking down at him. Kihyun’s brows are furrowed and there is a very distinctive look of confusion on his face.

“Didn’t exactly hear you complain last night, hyung.”

In the first few seconds Wonho’s highkey tempted to ask who in their right mind would, getting blown like that by a beautiful boy, but he manages to get his stupid impulse under control - because while completely true, that’s sort of beside the point. The point is they were stupid and Wonho know that if it was anyone else he wouldn’t exactly give that much of a fuck, but it’s  _ Kihyun _ . He’s not just somebody, not just anybody, and … well. Wonho probably should be the more responsible one, being Kihyun’s hyung and all. 

“I meant no protection, Ki.” 

Kihyun blinks at him owlishly, before he makes himself more comfortable against the barrister. “Oh.” One of his cheeks is smooshed against his forearm and he seems to ponder over the information and Wonho waits patiently. Finally, he asks, “You clean?” 

“I…,” Wonho pauses, actually does a quick recap of his sexual adventures for a second - after the army he actually does get tested regularly and his hit list isn’t all that impressive - and sighs,”Yeah, Ki, I am but that’s not really the point.”

Kihyun half-shrugs, before he disappears from Wonho’s view. There’s shuffling and a groan, before Kihyun props a pillow on the railing and then he rests his chin there. He looks a little bit tired, not as sharp as usual with hair cleaned from gel and falling into his face in still damp waves. “Fine,” he sighs and then grins at Wonho, “I’ll make sure we have condoms at hand.”

He has the audacity to laugh when Wonho sputters and kicks the upper bed in retaliation. Laughs even more when Wonho tells him there won’t be a next time.

\---

Of course there is a next time. 

\---

When the “ _ next time won’t happen _ ” happens, Wonho is sure it’s Minhyuk’s fault. Or Hyungwon’s, but the two of them are pretty much interchangeable at this point, so whatever. The thing is, it was Minhyuk who has been pestering them about going out clubbing, drinking and just letting loose. He talked Shownu into taking a weekend off, saying he needs to relax and enjoy some life. He worked his magic, got them entries to some hot shot club, even for Jooheon and Changkyun who looked both thrilled and perplexed at the same time. The club wasn’t exactly Wonho’s scene - he’d pretty much find some bar and enjoy a couple of cold ones in - and he wanted to protest, but Hyungwon gave him that one long look, the one that clearly said “Look at this excited puppy, look at him, I dare you to crush his joy” when Minhyuk was swearing up and down to Kihyun that even he will have fun and Wonho just… well. 

It’s all Minhyuk’s fault, as previously stated. Or Hyungown’s. 

What he does, is that he definitely blames Hyungwon for getting handsy though after a few drinks. Not with Wonho of course, nah, never, for all his aloofness and blasé, Hyungwon doesn't really see past Minhyuk’s ass, Wonho just wishes he didn’t have to witness him actually grabbing that ass and hauling Minhyuk into his lap. 

He’s not exactly sure where the others are at this point. They scattered around the club, and he thinks that Changkyun actually managed to get Shownu onto the dancefloor, close to begging to show off some moves. Jooheon made a beeline for the bar earlier on and where actually Kihyun is, well, hopefully not getting into any trouble, that’s Wonho’s best guess. Whatever the case, it means he’s currently stuck at the table with the two disgusting love birds, who apparently get sex-stupid with each other when alcohol is involved. 

“Are you two serious?” He groans when Minhyuk settles in Hyungwon’s lap, throws his head back dramatically as Hyungwon immediately bites at his neck. “Right now?” 

“Ah, hyung, jealous much?” Minhyuk’s a little shit, Wonho’s always known that but that over-the-top moan was completely unnecessary. He looks pleased as punch and Wonho’s desperately trying not to think if it’s the biting, the large hands grasping at his jean-clad ass or the way their hips are slowly grinding already. “I thought you of all people… _ oh, that’s good, _ ” Wonho’s going to need eye bleach to get rid of the sight of Hyungwon’s tongue dragging across Minhyuk’s skin in a lazy stroke, “Could get in on some action.” 

“I fucking hope they throw you out,” he bites out, hits his knee against the table in his hurry because Hyungown says something low and rumbly that still sounds like a promise to make Minhyuk come in his pants and sharing a wall is one thing, but Wonho is definitely  _ not  _ into seeing those two get it on. “And before either of you comes, too.”

He doesn’t wait for another reply, besides it would be hard to get one with the way Minhyuk jerked Hyungown’s head up to kiss him. Grumbling about friends acting more like horny teenagers than the actual teenagers in their social circle, Wonho throws them one last look - hoping that maybe they were just doing it to piss of him off - but no, they’re still at it, one of Hyungown’s hands slipping beneath Minhyuk’s jeans and Wonho needs to reset his brain right the fuck now. 

He literally stumbles to the bar, trying desperately not to think about two of his closest friends getting it on so casually in a club and orders a row of shots. He knocks back three almost immediately, feels them pool nice and hot in the pit of his stomach and hopes they will hit his head soon. He crinkles his nose in distaste, Minhyuk’s words rattling around in his head stubbornly. Asshole. 

“Wow, who pissed into your drink, hyung?” He hears Kihyun before he registers his presence, all warm weight plastered against his bowed back, hands sneaking around his waist. He feels Kihyun’s chin dig into his shoulder, his breath warm against his ear. 

“Hng,” he groans and downs another tumbler, enjoying the burn of the alcohol down his throat. “Min and Won are being disgusting.” 

“Oh yeah,” Kihyun chuckles, rubs his cheek against Wonho’s shoulder blade. He must have had a few too, to be so open with his affectionate gestures, Wonho thinks briefly and soaks up the attention before Kihyun moves. He slips like water around Wonho, hand dragging along Wonho’s back before he settles himself in the scarce, almost non-existent space between him and the bar. “They tend to do that, Min says they like the thrill. Thought I told you.” 

“You must have skipped that part,” Wonho mutters under his breath and doesn’t protest when Kihyun takes the last shot glass out of his hand and knocks it back himself, “I just wish I didn’t get the first row for that experience.” 

Kihyun grins like a madman, all teeth and nothing else as he leans against the bar on his elbows. For a moment, Kihyun looks away from Wonho and takes a look at their surroundings with a lazy, almost bored sort of curiosity.He looks very much at ease here, the strobing lights swimming across the planes of his face as he watches the swarm of people on the dancefloor; definitely more at ease than Wonho who usually was the one to take to new places like a fish to water. It unsettles Wonho a little, makes him remember that there’s a bit of Kihyun’s life he’s lost and this is clearly one of the changes that happened when he was away. 

Wonho shakes his head, to clear it of all the stupid and for some reason that makes Kihyun laugh.

“You know,” he drawls out after a while when Wonho’s still unable to settle down. He hooks one of his feet around Wonho’s ankles and as usual, Wonho reads through the gesture and shuffles in closer. With how little space there was between them, now they’re pressed close, as he rests his hands on both sides of Kihyun’s elbows, leaning in close enough so that Kihyun can whisper over the music right into his ear, “I got some stuff from Joo, we can split. Get you to unwind all proper from whatever it is going on in your head, hyung.” 

Wonho’s chest constricts funny at the thought, he can almost taste the cloying sweet taste of it on his tongue and it’s tempting, so tempting. Alcohol is clearly not working as well as it should, his head full of all sorts of stupid thoughts. 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s,” he mutters back, feels Kihyun’s fingers twitch where they brush against his shirt. “Not here though. Back home.”

Kihyun snorts, pokes him in the middle of his chest with one finger, “You’re so fucking lame. Where’s your sense of adventure?” He mocks him and pushes a little at Wonho to give him room, again moving around him effortlessly, “I’ll tell Shownu hyung, make sure he watches over the other two. Meet you at the door?”

“Yeah,” Wonho says, already digging through his pocket for cash to pay for his drinks. Kihyun disappears in the crowd and Wonho releases a breath.

Just the thought of going home with Kihyun sort of settles a bit of the mess in his head. He’s not entirely sure what’s gotten into him today but he’s been restless the whole day, thrumming with something he’s unable to name. That was why he didn’t want to come, he just wanted to stay home and work his way through whatever it was going on with him, either to throw it out the proverbial window or bury it deeper. The pounding music in the club, the dark, stifling, sultry atmosphere only made him more twitchy, and made his skin feel itchy. He tried to have fun, he did but he ended up alone at the table more time than not, at least until Minhyuk and Hyungwon decided to play into their apparent exhibitionist kink. 

Outside of the club, Wonho takes a deep breath and he can almost feel the way his chest and lungs finally expand. If he’s completely honest with himself, he’s a bit envious of how easy it is for them. They fall into each other easy as breathing and Wonho may gag at the sight of them, or used to pound a fist against the wall before Kihyun told him it was pointless and would only spur them on, but the fact that they have something like that, something that’s sort of precious in their fucked up lives… It probably should be a hopeful thing, some bullshit how there’s a chance for them all for the same thing.

Maybe Wonho’s too fucking jaded at this point. 

Minhyuk’s words on how he could get in on some action at a club were pretty much well deserved. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d pick a girl or a guy in a bar just to fool around with them in some dark corner; he’s always been popular and with his looks it never was too much of a chore to get someone on their knees for him. 

It’s just…

“Well, seems Jooheon and Changkyun are a thing now,” Kihyun’s voice makes him jerk his head up; it breaks the unpleasant line of thoughts. “If all that grinding and kissing on the dancefloor is anything to go by.” 

Without giving him one second more, Kihyun throws his jacket at him and the look on his face is, well. Wonho would call it complicated at best. It’s amused and sort of pained and slightly disturbed in a way. And that’s when Kihyun’s words register.

“Is everyone who stays at our apartment fucking?” He asks, pinching the bridge of his nose because great, that’s what they all need, the teens getting it on as rabbits on top of the kinky duo. 

“You’re not. I’m not. Shownu hyung’s definitely not.” Kihyun slips on his own jacket, straightens his back a little and sighs, “I told him we’re off, by the way. Told him not to hurry and left him some cash for the inevitable fine someone’s going to pay for being indecent in public.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, you don’t want to know.” Kihyun nods in agreement as he falls into step right next to Wonho, hands buried into pockets, “So what’s going on with you, hyung. I thought you might appreciate getting piss drunk on something that’s not crappy beer from the convenience store.” 

Wonho merely shrugs, “Not feeling it today I guess. Head’s all fucked up for some reason.” 

“Ah.”

Kihyun doesn’t press and Wonho’s immediately grateful for that. It’s one of the nice things about being friends with Kihyun; he’s got his own shit ton of issues so that he’ll never press anyone for theirs. He knows what it's like to get in over your head, when nothing makes sense anymore. 

Besides it’s not like Wonho’s about to admit he’s having thoughts like some sort of a dramatic thirteen-year-old about to wax poetics in her sticker-filled diary over the unfairness and confusion that life brings. 

They’re quiet for the duration of their walk, elbows bumping every now and then when they squeeze past strangers and avoid collisions. With each step closer to home, Wonho already feels like he’s getting calmer, how much easier breathing becomes.

He's definitely  _ not _ a club person. 

“You’re wrong by the way,” he says slowly some time later, when they’re lounging in the cluttered living room, both already changed into their shirts and boxers. Kihyun’s finishing rolling up the blunt, the dried-up weed sticking to the tips of his fingers while Wonho’s went and made himself comfortable with his head in Kihyun’s lap. 

It’s nice, just the two of them, nothing too hurried and nothing too loud - in a way things haven’t been a while. They’re always with someone else, at least one person (usually more) and right now, Wonho really enjoys being alone with just Kihyun. It makes Wonho wonder briefly, when was the last time they actually hung out like this, only them, without anyone else around, without any other noises and sounds except their own.

He doesn't exactly remember, Wonho realizes. They should do it more often. 

“Wrong about what?” Kihyun mutters and just as usual, he grabs Wonho’s scattered attention effortlessly so Wonho looks back up at him and smiles.

He’s so focused on the task at hand that Wonho wants to poke the scrunch of his nose. It looks ridiculous, two or three wrinkles right there between his brows and Wonho needs to do something with his hands not to give into the urge.

He focuses on the question, instead. “I jerked you off and you blew me. That definitely counts as some sort of fucking.” 

Kihyun snorts, lets his eyes shift from the finished paper roll in his hands to Wonho’s face. He looks amused and unimpressed at the same time like only he can. It’s definitely a talent. 

“Some sort, sure” he mocks and leans forward to grab a lighter from the table. The motion causes him to smoosh Wonho’s face, nose pressed flat against Kihyun’s chest and Wonho splutters in fake-protest, before he pokes back with his nose, “So that’s why you’ve been acting so pissy today? Your hand is not enough again?” 

“Fuck you, I haven’t been acting _ pissy _ ,” Wonho mutters when Kihyun leans back again and lights up the joint. He puffs it a few times, the thick smoke curling around his face, the strong smell of weed slowly filling the room as Wonho keeps his eyes on the glowing tip. “Just 'cause I don’t go down to my knees every time I go out…”

“Do you even ever?” Kihyun interrupts him, eyes curious as he looks down at Wonho. He then takes the first drag and hands him the cig, exhaling slowly through the nose. 

The first hit makes his throat scratchy and his lungs burn; it’s been a while since Wonho smoked stuff as potent as this and he keeps it in as long as he can. The exhale he gives is slow, dragged out as he’s not willing to release all the smoke all at once. He takes another one, repeats the whole process and raises his hand for Kihyun to take the spliff from him. 

It’s not going to get them super high, one cig split between the two of them, but Wonho can feel that the stuff’s good. Two hits in and Wonho already feels warm and so, so calm; he closes his eyes as one of Kihyun’s hands starts tapping a unnamed rhythm against his chest when he smokes his own fill. “Do I even ever  _ what _ ?” he asks after a while, after his next turn is over and he’s exhaling another cloud of sweet, cloying smoke in the shape of each word. 

Beneath him, Kihyun shifts a little and Wonho grunts, not appreciating the jostling. He’s comfy where he is, his head supported on Kihyun’s thigh and he’s not too keen on changing his position any time soon. Kihyun should stop moving and let him just lie there, soak up the easy, laid back atmosphere they have. 

“Go down to your knees.” 

It’s a struggle to open his eyes with how comfortable and fuzzy he’s starting to feel, but Wonho manages. Kihyun’s looking at him and his eyes are weed soft too, cheeks hollowed as inhales. When he reaches to hand the cig over, Wonho grabs his wrist instead - he pulls his hand closer and when he closes his lips over the tip of the spliff, they brush against Kihyun’s fingers. 

He blows a few circles, watches them grow and dissipate. “No, not really,” he blinks slowly and chuckles to himself, feeling floaty and somehow grounded at the same time. “Been told enough times I’d look pretty down there though.”

Kihyun hums back in his throat and the sound seems to settle in Wonho’s bones; he needs to talk to Jooheon to get more of this stuff, cause this feel so fucking  _ good. _ Slowly, Kihyun blinks at him as he raises his free hand, reaches out and traces underneath Wonho’s lip with his thumb. He presses gently against the metal ring Wonho’s wearing, presses it into the soft skin and oh, it’s the weed working it’s way through him, clearly, Wonho tells himself when he feels his stomach do something funny at the gesture.

“I don’t think pretty would be the word,” Kihyun says after a while and he sounds like he’s there-not-there, like he’s deep in thought and not aware of what’s tumbling out of his mouth. All of his remaining attention seems to be on Wonho’s lips, his thumb pulling at the lower one a little, “With this mouth on you, hyung, I bet you’d look divine.” 

A laugh bubbles out of him at that, because Kihyun’s being his kind of cringy - he tells him that and gets a scoff in return. He catches the sight of the joint, the glowing tip just at the end of the roll when Kihyun hollows his cheek on the very last inhale. Wonho makes a sound of protest, he wants in on some of that still, before Kihyun crushes the cig in the ashtray and leans in, close, closer, curling over Wonho so he can  _ almost _ press their mouths together and only then, he exhales.  The smoke rolls, thick and double warm and at first Wonho wants to just take it all, to inhale everything and then some but then his brain picks up sluggishly on other details. He reaches out, puts his hand in Kihyun’s hair and drags all of the hit into his lungs. 

He feels sloshed in something thick and funny, his mind quiet but with something bubbling under his skin, something pleasant and exciting. 

“Hey Ki,” he mutters as he exhales against Kihyun’s mouth, watches how up this close Kihyun’s eyes are sort of blurry; soft and hazy and heavy; their lips catch when he forms words that feel cotton heavy on this tongue, “You wanna do something stupid?” 

“With you?” Kihyun’s voice is syrup-thick and he takes in a breath, then it’s like the strings that held him are cut off, because Kihyun leans in that missing inch, catches Wonho’s lower lip with his teeth, pulling at the metal ring there. Wonho feels like the air in his lungs thickens, the hand in Kihyun’s hair tightening its grip, “Always.” 

\---

Wonho’s woken up by Kihyun clambering into his bed in the morning - and it must be some ungodly hour because Wonho feels like he  _ just _ closed his eyes . He pushes the covers off of Wonho, straddles his hips and Wonho’s initial reaction is to swat at him with one hand, hoping to get at least one smack in so that he will just fuck off and let Wonho sleep in peace.

Kihyun’s stubbornly  _ handsy _ though, tugging at his shoulder and whisper-hissing his name straight into Wonho’s ear. 

God, Wonho thinks as he gives up and lets himself be manhandled a bit so that he’s face to face with his pain in the ass best friend. Who actually might lose that status in the next five minutes.

“The fuck you want?” Wonho rasps and winces because his voice is shot to shit from alcohol and smoking and almost choking on Kihyun’s dick the previous night. “Lemme sleep.”

“I need to talk to you,” Kihyun insists and fucking hell, he sounds way too awake and way too,- everything for how Wonho’s feeling right now. He grabs his shoulder again and gives Wonho a little shake, “C’mon hyung, open your eyes for fuck’s sake! Five minutes!” 

“I’m five seconds away from dropping your ass on the floor and telling you to go fuck yourself…”

“I’d rather have you do that,” Kihyun says over him, effectively cutting Wonho off and causing him to finally look at Kihyun, blink once, twice, because  _ what the fuck _ ,” Or me you, no matter, I’m pretty much good with either.”

Wonho opens his mouth and closes, pinches himself in the hip because he might be missing a huge load of context here and he swears he wasn’t  _ that _ high or drunk yesterday, and he finally, finally manages to get a, “You what now?” out of himself. 

Kihyun grins down at him, all pixie-like and mischievous, and literally falls forward, bracing himself with a hand next to Wonho's head in the last moment; Wonho doesn’t yelp in surprise, no he doesn’t. He makes a very musculine and manly noise and then his world and vision are filled with Kihyun, the bright of his eyes and the sharpness of his smile. 

He’s small, warm and boney weight, stretched across the bigger planes of Wonho’s body, his free hand somehow curled and tightened in the loose folds of Wonho’s t-shirt. 

“Three times, hyung,” Kihyun whisper-sings, breath minty fresh across Wonhos’s lips and making Wonho almost painfully aware of how something has died inside of his own mouth, before he pulls away. Giving Wonho room to breathe, Kihyun straightens, settles almost too comfortably in Wonho’s lap. “Don’t know about you, I never fooled around with the same person more than once and liked it.” 

Wonho knows Kihyun well enough to realize it’s some sort of a twisted compliment, still, he rubs a hand over his face and tries to make any sense out of everything. 

“And your best idea is to do what exactly? Keep dicking around? Just like that?” 

Kihyun’s shrug is so casual it's actually impressive. “Yeah,” he says simply, splays both of his hands over the plane of Wonho’s stomach, “It’s different with you and I like that. And I trust you, hyung. So yeah, how about it?” 

It’s a bad idea. It’s a very bad idea - Wonho knows them first hand after all at this point. But so was that first time in the shower and that second time in his bed, the same one they’re in right now. And yesterday too, in the living room, worse of all and best too, because after everything was done and they sort of caught their breaths, Wonho was still high-and-orgasm stupid. Stupid enough to pull Kihyun in, slot their mouths together and swallow his surprised gasp. 

He always liked kissing.

Liked to taste, to use his teeth and tongue and earn those little breathy sounds the other person always made. Kissing was easy, could be careless in its excitement and sometimes clumsy, or it could be rough and biting, a harsh press of mouths, sharp nips of teeth. Kissing was fun. 

And kissing Kihyun felt as natural as falling to his knees earlier did, just another extension of their relationship; felt as natural as running away from home felt, when they had nothing to their name, but each other and clothes bundled in their backpacks. 

It’s Kihyun and things always feel natural with Kihyun.

And there’s some sense to what Kihyun is suggesting; it’s always better to fool around with someone you can be certain of. There’s the risk it might damage their friendship, Wonho knows that, but there’s also the thrill of doing something that risky. 

He must have remained silent a lot longer than he imagined because Kihyun suddenly scoffs and makes an attempt to move, muttering something under his nose as he tries to scramble off. Without thinking he reaches out, his hands on Kihyun’s hips; digs his fingers in a little and Kihyun immediately settles, blinking down at him.

This is going to be probably the stupidest thing Wonho’s ever did.

“You think you can handle all of this?” Wonho mutters, drags his thumbs over the raise of Kihyun’s hip-bones as if to prove a point, just because Kihyun woke him up and Wonho’s entitled to be a bit of an asshole. 

Kihyun rolls his eyes and slaps his hands away, “Please hyung. You say that as if I couldn’t blow your mind.” He bites his lip lightly, cocks his head to the side, “Which I already did. So. That a yes?” 

“Yeah,” Wonho drawls lazily and enjoys the way Kihyun’s eyes brighten up, “That a yes.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses *deep, suffering sigh*


	3. Chapter 3

They don’t necessarily keep it a secret, nor do they flaunt the little change in their relationship. For one, it’s nobody’s damn business. And well, two… outside of their shared room, nothing really changes. 

They go their own ways through most of the days. Jooheon and Changkyun’s books start to occupy most of their living room, their respective finals coming up. Kihyun’s proud of how hard they work, despite everything and their out-of-reflex need to rebel against the schooling system and bitching about the societal pressure of getting a good education and getting a good job. 

He runs into Changkyun’s mother once at the door that leads to their piss poor building and for a moment or two, it’s so awkward Kihyun feels thirteen all over again, not knowing where to lay his eyes. She clears her throat finally and while she looks at him with clear disdain, she still thanks him and asks to keep looking out for her son. Says his marks have improved and the complaints from his professors have lessened, his attendance card getting better and better. When Kihyun nods, albeit dumbly, says, of course he will, it’s Kyun after all, her hard cut face softens, the harsh red of her tinted lips almost curling in a smile. She leaves behind bags of stationery supplies, energy drinks and ice coffees and late-night snacks, more than needed for one or two people.

In terms of day to day life, Kihyun and Minhyuk usually have the apartment to themselves in the evenings and their youngest friends tend to gather around their table with books and notes. Wonho’s working every second day now, Shownu’s gone on a daily basis. Hyungwon somehow managed to find an additional job at a club, one of the nicer ones they never or rarely attend, helping out a DJ or something - he sleeps his gigs off and nothing short of an earthquake can wake him up before late afternoon. Kihyun's not entirely sure how that happened but after the first gig Hyungwon seemed to literally shine with glee, so happy like Kihyun never saw him and Minhyuk stared at him with such soft, proud eyes, so he guesses it’s a very good thing that has happened. 

Plus, their joint budget benefits from three of them working more - and that’s not something Kihyun’s going to complain about. 

So yes, it’s usually him and Minhyuk, navigating through questions and helping with flashcards, unless Kihyun gets called by one of his girls to help out here and there. It’s homey in a way Kihyun never really experienced.

On weekends their youngest are usually back home and the five of them unwind, watching reruns of shows or playing games, drinking beer, and enjoying their own company. When they’re not and they’re all seven, the scenario doesn’t really change - except Changkyun always kick their asses at board games (they have forbidden Monopoly quite early on) and Jooheon usually manages to get his hands on some potent stuff to smoke. 

The first time Shownu cracked and joined in on sharing a spliff was  _ amazing _ , their eldest becoming snuggly soft and cooing, holding both of the youngest boys close to him and telling them that they were his future, while Minhyuk was hiding his howls into a pillow and Kihyun pretty much hyperventilating, tears spilling down his cheeks as he couldn’t even laugh properly anymore.

When they’re all together, Kihyun tends to stick to Wonho as he always did, more often than not occupying space next to him on the sofa as they joke and laugh, pressed into his side and with Wonho’s arm around his shoulder. 

They sit side by side during breakfasts and dinners and whatever meal it is, chairs shoved close together just like they always had

Wonho always lingers when he’s preparing something, filling the air with little chit chat or nothing at all, just watching Kihyun bustle around the flat and keeping him company just by being there. In bars and clubs, he’s always in the seat next to Kihyun, letting him steal his shots when he’s pretending not to see, seemingly too busy talking to whoever it is.

It’s nice and the same as usual and the fact that Kihyun now knows several ways to make his best friend come doesn’t change anything.

—-

“Do you think telling someone you love them often is a bad thing?”

Kihyun blinks up at Jooheon, spits out the cap of the pen he’s been holding in between his lips and blinks again. What now?

Jooheon seems oddly distressed, twitchy and instead of focusing on his mock test, Kihyun sees, he doodles something that looks like pretty wicked tattoo designs all around the questions. 

“Shouldn’t you be busy?” He asks gently, but his brows are knitted, because he must have been seriously out of it, writing down recipes into his notebook, not to notice that Jooheon stopped working.

Jooheon sighs and doesn’t look apologetic at all, only unsettled, almost unhappy. It’s not a good look on him. “I know,” he mutters finally, drawing circles and swirls between the already existent drawings, “I was just… my dad said it makes me weak.”

Kihyun’s definitely certain he is the last person to be having this conversation, his stellar family history considered, so he just shifts a little where he’s sitting, his knees hitting the table from the underside. It rattles the half-empty coffee mugs and makes one of the many pencils roll slowly across its surface. 

Jooheon bites at his lip and looks down at his paper, sighs and when he looks back up, Kihyun can see how quickly he hardens himself, puts up several walls and braves on a smile. 

“Nevermind, hyung, it was just a silly musing,” he says, the cheer in his voice thick and dripping from every word and Kihyun scrunches up his nose in distaste. 

He reaches across the table, grabs Jooheon’s hand by the wrist before he manages to catch that wayward pencil, “I think there is no one in this world who would complain hearing that they’re loved, one way or another.” 

He can feel the rush of Jooheon’s pulse under his fingers, feels it thrum fast and fluttering, as Jooheon looks at him with wide eyes. He can see his throat working as the kid swallows once, twice, way too fast; and the way there’s a tell-tale glaze over his eyes, too bright, too damp. 

Kihyun’s heart aches, because Jooheon’s a good kid, a really good kid, without a mean bone in his body and he’s too soft for this world, which is why he hangs around the “ _ bad _ ” crowd, why he wears hardened leather on his back and spikes in his ears. 

“If you want to tell someone, say it. If you can’t, show it another way,” Kihyun says as he gives his hand a little squeeze and let’s go, trying to go back to his own notebook. “Now, go back to work.”

There’s silence then, just the scritch-scratch of their respective pencils; sometimes Jooheon mutters something under his nose as he works through a question or equation.

Rewriting from his phone into his notebook doesn’t require much focus on his part and so his thoughts wander, stray away from the flat; they end up in Goyang, in a too familiar, well-forgotten house. He tries to remember if he ever heard an  _ I love you  _ back there. He doesn’t, not aimed at him; he thinks of his brother and nothing comes to him as well. Love seemed to be a strange, hush-hush concept at his home. 

Kihyun’s phone vibrates, breaking him out of his rather gloomy thoughts, Wonho asking if he should bring take out on his way home. 

Takeout isn’t their usual-to-go food and actually, they have enough leftovers to re-heat from the previous day, there is no excuse for Wonho to spend money like this.

He types a quick reply but throws a look at Jooheon one more time - takes in the brows furrowed in concentration, the way his tongue is poking at the side of his mouth as he mulls over another question to get it right - and he hesitates. A second later, he deletes what he has written.

When Wonho comes home, they’ve cleaned up the table already and Jooheon is sitting next to Kihyun, their heads bowed as they go over the answer sheet and Jooheon’s paper, Kihyun making marks and highlighting where the solutions went wrong. 

“Ah, okay,” he says out loud and they both look up. Wonho grins and shakes the bag with food at them, “Extra mandu.” 

Jooheon brightens up like the sun, “Man, hyung, I love you!” 

“Where’s the rest?” Wonho asks, sitting on Kihyun’s next side and pulling out food trays and breaking the complimentary chopsticks.

He smells a little bit of smoke and cooking oil, the smell lingering heavy on his clothes as Kihyun moves that extra inch closer, presses their shoulders together. Jooheon makes a quick run to the kitchen, bringing sodas and glasses before he digs in happily into his own serving. 

“Who knows about Min and Hyungwon,” Kihyun mutters as he tries his own food, hissing a little as it burns his tongue. “And Joo says Kyun had extra classes.” 

“He does,” Jooheon mumbles around an overly large bite of mandu, cheeks puffing out, “He’s got them this whole week.” 

“See? Kids working hard these days.” 

Wonho only chuckles at that, slurping in noodles. For the next few minutes, they’re not talking, simply eating a late dinner, before Jooheon blinks, looks at the food tray in front of him. 

“Something wrong?” Wonho asks because it’s not like any of them to drop a hot meal half-way, “You feeling ok?” 

“Yeah I…,” Jooheon blinks again and then he smiles, dimples full on display as he looks at Kihyun. 

It’s like he suddenly got a whole lot of answers to a whole lot of questions and Kihyun squirms a little where he’s sitting, not sure he understands what’s happening, but he can feel his heart speed up unpleasantly in his chest.

“I think I get it now, hyung,” Jooheon says warmly, voice laced with affection, “Showing can be as loud as actually saying it.” 

The unpleasant feeling dissolves instantly, replaced with something warm and funny, and Kihyun ducks his head, ignores Wonho’s confused look and just keeps on eating. 

—-

The first time they actually fuck, there oddly is no excuse of alcohol or weed or a post-fight adrenaline.

Kihyun just walks into their room after a shower, towel around his waist and shuffles around looking for clean boxers and a shirt to sleep in. Wonho’s in his bunk already, having done his clean up earlier, fiddling with his phone or something, just like he always does before sleep. 

Kihyun’s humming something under his breath, clearly in a good mood, his voice pleasant and distracting enough that Wonho looks up just in time to see him lose the towel and hang it neatly on the doorknob. There’s no fake shyness between them, never was really, so it’s not like Wonho’s never seen Kihyun butt naked before but this time, for some reason, he lets his eyes linger on Kihyun’s frame. 

On all the long, lean lines that Kihyun seems to be made of. He seems so slender, so frail to the outside eyes; even in his black clothes and leather, everyone who has ever come across Kihyun’s path has misjudged Kihyun for being weak merely because of his seemingly small frame. But fabrics only hide the way he’s built himself, hide the expanse of hard, wiry muscles, hide the strength he has packed tight and coiled into a very lithe body.

Wonho knows first hand how unappreciated all of that strength is and suddenly, he wants to feel it against him, aimed at him.

“Kihyun,” he calls out, dropping the phone somewhere into the mess of covers before he hefts himself up a little, rests his weight on his elbows. 

Kihyun looks at him with curiosity, unabashed in his state of undress and with boxers in one hand and for a second Wonho’s overwhelmed with the amount of trust Kihyun has for him - there is nothing wary in his eyes, nothing suspicious. He just waits for Wonho to say whatever he wants to say, no conditions, no reservations. 

Wonho’s always known Kihyun trusted him but only lately he has been thinking just how much trust there is between them and it’s so intertwined with so many other things, Wonho’s not even sure there are names for them. 

The thought of it all, though, complete with that open, unguarded look makes Wonho feel warm all over, makes his toes curl. 

“Hyung?” Kihyun asks, tilts his head when Wonho doesn't speak for a good couple of minutes, a tinge of worry coloring the word. 

There is no need for worry though because Wonho’s more than fine, but his mind is just sizzling, overloaded all of the sudden and so he reaches out with one hand.

“Just… just c’mere,” he mutters, wiggles his fingers and over the course of one breath, the curiosity in Kihyun’s eyes shifts smoothly to something more pleasant, more fun and he comes forth. 

Unabashadley naked, he crawls into Wonho’s bed, on all four as he hovers over him. He smells strongly of the shower gel they buy in bulk, that all too familiar scent of a lemonish zing and something _ menthe _ , that Wonho’s used to smelling on his own skin and on Minhyuk when they sing karaoke on weekends, plastered and holding onto each other. 

In that same smooth, certain move Kihyun settles above him and immediately leans in, knowing without words what Wonho wants from him. He kisses Wonho without hesitation, presses him back into the sheets and his pillow, hands both gentle and firm where he holds Wonho’s face. There’s nothing gentle about his kiss however, with the way Kihyun pulls at Wonho’s lower lip with his teeth, nips around the piercing and soothes the sting with his tongue. Nothing soft with the way he controls it, clearly set on drawing gasps and punched out huffs and Wonho’s half-way to hard already; but with a beautiful, naked Kihyun on top of him kissing the air out of his lungs, it’s not really a surprise. 

The contrast, all of Kihyun’s warm skin on display and Wonho’s to stroke and touch and explore, while Wonho’s still half covered by sheets and his sleep clothes merely adds to his slowly pooling arousal, to the steady heat uncoiling deliciously in the pit of Wonho’s stomach.

Wonho runs his hands down the length of Kihyun’s back as they kiss, feels the ridges of his spine, presses his fingers into the dimples at the small of his back and swallows Kihyun’s groan. Runs his palms up and down his thighs, feels the muscles firm and tense under his touch, before he settles them on the glass-cut of his hipbones, presses his thumbs there and moans into the kiss when Kihyun rolls his hips down, the move slow and smooth and causing Wonho’s senses to sizzle. 

He’s not sure when he pulls away from the kiss with a wet noise, but time doesn’t matter at this point. What matters is that he does it partly to catch his breath and partly to rasp, “Fuck me” into the heated, darkening space they’ve made for themselves in the lower bunk. 

The look Kihyun gives him is incredulous - wide eyed and disbelieving - as he pulls away from where he immediately ducked a moment ago to suck a bruise against Wonho’s neck. He looks so incredibly precious, with the flush on his cheeks that's from his shower and arousal both, damp hair in disarray, lips cherry red and swollen from kissing. He doesn’t seem like Wonho’s words truly registered just yet. 

But… but that’s what Wonho wants. 

He’s used to taking charge, to dictate who and when comes and how, by his tongue or cock or fingers. Has bragged about it enough times for the surprise in Kihyun’s eyes to be evident, understandable. But right now, under his hands, Kihyun’s a tight coil that might snap in the best way, a tight neat package of so many pleasant things Wonho wants to experience all at once.

So he says what he says and gets to relish the delighted twinkle that appears in Kihyun’s eye. 

“Fuck, yes, hyung,” Kihyun whispers almost giddily and kisses him again, wet and filthy, hips grinding down in a slow, almost lazy roll. Wonho clutches at his waist, sure Kihyun will wear rings of his finger marks for the next few days but there’s no noise of protest, quite the opposite when Wonho bucks his own hips up. 

He’s lost in the steady simmering pleasure of just kissing and rutting against each other like that before Kihyun gets impatient, starts pawing at his shirt and tugging at the covers. With a dissatisfied groan, Kihyun scrambless off of Wonho’s lap, hands reaching to tug his shirt off while Wonho himself kicks the covers away. The rumpled covers land somewhere on the floor, soon followed by the shirt and Wonho’s boxers and when Kihyun presses himself tight against him again, there’s electricity in the contact. There’s a layer of sweat between them already and Kihyun grumbles something about needing another shower but it gets lost somewhere over the rise of Wonho’s collarbone where Kihyun busies himself leaving a string of marks, pulling color to the surface of Wonho’s flushed skin. 

There’s a sizzle of sudden uncertainty that has Wonho’s breath hitching, a simmer of doubt about how this all will go, if this isn’t too much, if this is still alright and okay. He makes a grab for Kihyun’s hair, twines his fingers in the stark black strands and pulls him up almost harshly, claims Kihyun’s mouth as if this is the only way to drown this nagging feeling out. It comes ungraceful at first, too much, their teeth clanking before Wonho gets it right, his other hand clutching and clenching and stroking over Kihyun’s hips. 

Kihyun’s slotted perfectly between Wonho’s thighs, his sharp angles pressed against the bulky frame of Wonho’s legs. It makes friction between them so good, almost delirious even if not wet and slick enough. 

Kihyun groans into the kiss before he pulls off and the look he gives Wonho is absolutely out of it. His breathing hard, body quivering in tension and anticipation and Wonho wants, wants to feel all of that neatly coiled energy, wants to feel it unravel against, next to him, within him. 

Kihyun’s hips jerk against his, Wonho can feel how sticky and messy it’s becoming where they're grinding against each other as if they’re mere teens, feels the building up strain of keeping his thighs spread and hitched up. 

“Hyung,” Kihyun groans as he leans in, drags his tongue over the swell of Wonho’s mouth, “ _ Hyung _ .” 

It’s asking and demanding and a warning all at once, and Wonho groans as well .This isn’t going to be long lasting, not with the way they’re both in such a hurry, with the way they’re both tense and ready to unravel.

“Like this, Ki” Wonho bites into Kihyun’s lips, “Like this, I wanna see you.” 

Kihyun looks shell-shocked for a splinter of a second - and Wonho doesn't know how to explain why he needs to see this so bad, to see Kihyun unravel, why he wants to experience every sharp angle pressed into his body. 

But Kihyun merely takes in a shaking breath, eyes darkening before he reaches up, brushes Wonho’s sweat-damp hair away from his forehead.

The gesture is almost gentle, almost sweet but the words that tumble out of Kihyun’s mouth the next second , “Trust me, I’ll be the only thing you see, hyung” are anything but. 

It’s a quick fumble for the lube and a condom - Wonho’s ironically reminded of Kihyun’s promise to be stocked up on those in this moment - before they’re tightly pressed together again, Wonho’s hand between them to grab at them both. They're a barely-there fit in his hand, both of them hot and hard. Everything is almost slick enough with precome as he gives them both a few slow, experimental tugs, a few strokes and earns a slap of a lubed up hand against his shoulder and a hiss to stop it. 

The press of a first finger is uncomfortable, cold and he tenses because it’s been way too fucking long since he allowed himself to be this sort of intimate with anyone. He closes his eyes, breathes through the initial discomfort and reminds himself he wanted it, he was the one to call the shots. There’s a flutter against his cheek, something warm and tangible and then Kihyun is kissing him again, pressed so close as he works him open that everything else just slowly, slowly melts into the shape of them together. 

When Kihyun adds the second finger, the ache is barely noticeable. His other hand is busy too, fingers rolling one of Wonho’s nipples, rubbing and pulling in the same rhythm he has set on working Wonho open. Their kiss is barely a kiss anymore, more of panting against each other's mouths, an occasional swipe of tongue or nip of teeth than anything else. Everything hot and slick between them, precome from their cocks and sweat everywhere else, Wonho’s legs hitched around Kihyun’s waist. Kihyun’s fingers aren’t bulky, more long and clever and they work wonders both on Wonho’s skin and inside of him. 

When Kihyun bites at his lip all of the sudden, pinches his sensitive nipple, Wonho’s spine bows with a zing of the pain-pleasure, mouth falling open over a shameless groan as he realizes that Kihyun’s got three fingers in now. It’s unnecessary, he wants to say, he can take sex with a slight edge of pain and he tries to articulate that thought, but Kihyun just curls his fingers inside of him in a way that seems to light up every single nerve Wonho has. 

“Oh fuck,” he groans and Kihyun moves away, drags his hand from Wonho’s chest to his cock as he straightens - or as much as it’s possible in the lower bunk. He seems enraptured with the sight of his fingers buried in Wonho’s body because he just sits there on his haunches for a moment, his own cock hard and slick with precome. “Kihyun, come on.” 

Kihyun looks up at him, mouth bitten and kissed red, a flush spreading down to his chest. “You take it so well, hyung,” he breathes out in amazement and it causes something to coil inside of Wonho; he can see his dick jerk at the words, a pearl of precome leaving the tip and fucking hell, this isn’t the time to analyze a blooming praise kink because he just wants to get fucked and come preferably within the next quater of an hour, “I never thought... “, he trails off as if in a daze and Wonho just wants to tell him to hurry the hell up. 

However, he only groans again when Kihyun presses the pads of his fingers against his inner walls, blindly pats the space near the pillow until he feels the small foil packet he throws in the direction of Kihyun’s face. 

“Get on with it,” he rasps and Kihyun’s eyes shoot up to his, “Really wanna come with you inside.” 

It’s nice to see Kihyun’s as affected by this because he sort of curls in on himself for a second before he slides his fingers out of Wonho’s ass and fumbles with the condom to get it open. His hands aren’t as steady and he shakes his head a few times before he rolls the rubber on, curls his hand at the base of his cock for a second when he’s done. Takes a few deeper breaths before he aligns himself, all of his focus at the tip of his cock and where it’s pressed against Wonho’s rim. 

Even with the prep, there’s the tell-tale burn; Wonho’s eyes flutter as he sucks in a breath again, bearing down as Kihyun slowly, so fucking slowly pushes in. The look of absolute concentration, of the laser-like focus on Kihyun’s face is so much like him, Wonho thinks absentmindedly, feeling warm all over at the realization that he is the one at the center of it all. Just like he wanted. All of Kihyun’s control aimed at him, all of his precision only to make Wonho feel good. 

Kihyun leans over him as he bottoms out, hands on either side of Wonho’s head and for a second they stare at each other, breathing heavily. Sweat makes hair stick to Kihyun’s forehead, pearls of it at his temples, and threatens to fall into his eyes. Wonho reaches with one hand, brushes it away and rolls his hips lightly, testing the waters and fuck yes, that’s good. A moan leaves his mouth when Kihyun gets the hint and finally, finally moves. 

It’s a steady rhythm, the rolls of his hips long and sure and Wonho can already feel Kihyun’s hip bones digging into the inside of his thighs every single time he drives back in. There’s a scrunch between Kihyun’s brows, his teeth pulling at his lower lip in concentration; his hands clenched on the pillow next to Wonho’s ears. 

“Always,- ah, always so serious,” Wonho gasps out at one particularly good thrust, his hands all over Kihyun’s back, gliding across his skin. He can feel the quiver that runs through his body, “Fuck Ki, let go. Come on.” 

Kihyun shudders, his hips faltering for a second before he drives back in hard, picks up the pace and yeah, that’s more like it. Wonho gets one hand between them, wraps around his own cock. 

“One time I wanna watch you, hyung,” Kihyun moans, his head dipped low. He’s watching the way Wonho touches himself, watches the way his hand works up and down his cock, the twists at the end, and the rough pull. “In broad light. Please.” 

It takes a moment for Wonho to understand the meaning and it punches the remains of air out of his lungs, as he tightens his grip. It’s not gonna take long, not with the way his toes are already curling and there’s a steady kind of heat pooling in his stomach. “Ye-yeah. Yeah.” He gasps as Kihyun readjusts, steadies his hands on the backside of Wonho’s thighs, and drives his hips forward. It’s the perfect angle and Wonho arches, his cock downright leaking in his own grasp. “‘S good,” he moans and Kihyun’s fingers dig almost painful into his pulled taut muscle, a barely-there flash of pain to flare up the pleasure. 

It’s hard to keep his eyes on Kihyun, despite how badly he wanted to watch him unravel, between the sure, strong pace of Kihyun’s thrusts and the way he’s jerking himself off. He just wants to get off  _ right now _ so he just lets his eyes close, lets himself focus on the slapping, squelchy sound of Kihyun slipping in and out of him, on the feel of his hand around his cock. On the breathy noises Kihyun makes or the way he corkscrews his hips every now and then. 

When he comes, it’s over a quiet gasp, spurts of come hitting his stomach in thick strands. He melts into his own bedding, hears Kihyun curse and bend over him, managing a dozen or so thrusts more before his hips jerk, stutter, dig in deep before he stills, shaking as he spills. His hands are still clenched at the backs of Wonho’s legs and he can feel the burn in his muscles already. 

Kihyun doesn’t collapse onto him once he releases his grip, after he carefully pulls himself out; and, Wonho winces at the sting that makes it through the post-orgasmic haze. He merely leans onto the wall, eyes closed and face glowy and red. The flush spreads onto his tattoos, filling the flowers with color before it deeps even lower, onto his heavily working chest. 

It’s a sight Wonho would never guess he’d be the one to witness. 

They don’t talk. After several minutes, Wonho watches Kihyun scramble out of the bed after he catches his breath, watches him dispose of the condom into the trash bin, before he makes himself move. There’s a very distinctive ache and he knows it won’t go away by the morning, but it’s a pleasurable ache, a nice reminder of what just happened. He feels warm all over and loose and it takes an inhuman amount of sheer will to move. The inside of his thighs are rubbed red, pulsing with blood and he can feel the phantom touch of Kihyun’s fingers at the backs of them. 

All signs of a good fuck and by now, Wonho just wants to stretch out comfortably in his bed and fall asleep enjoying the remains of the afterglow. 

“This is a good look on you, hyung,” Kihyun chuckles when Wonho grabs Kihyun’s still damp towel from the doorknob to wipe himself clean. Wonho raises a brow at him, but only answers after he finds his sleep shirt and after he pokes his head through the neckline. Kihyun is still naked, but now he has lost that rigidness from before and he seems … relaxed, loose in a way Kihyun rarely is. It coaxes a smile out of him.

“What? Half naked?” Wonho teases, pointing to his bare legs and half-covered groin. 

Kihyun chuckles, grabs his own boxers from where he dropped them on the floor. He rolls his head a little to work out a crick, smiles a lazy kind of smile, “Fucked out.”

“Hm,” Wonho hums as if deep in thought and crosses the scarce distance between them. Puts his hand over one of Kihyun’s hip, over the blooming finger marks that peek from beneath the elastic band. He doesn’t quite remember when he left them but they look good there, “You’re not looking half-bad yourself, Ki.” He smudges his thumb across one of the bruises, “Sex’s a good look on you too. Might think of a better one though.”

Kihyun blinks then, hands full of his own shirt, before he tilts his head a little in curiosity. “Something that looks better than sex? On me?” His eyes crinkle up in obvious delight then, “Pray tell, hyung. What would that be?”

Wonho smiles, slow and deliberate, steps in closer. He’s feeling light and nice, so he leans in and almost presses his lips against Kihyun’s ear. 

“Me.”

\---

Some time later, one Sunday morning, without warning and when everyone else is asleep, Minhyuk literally throws himself next to Kihyun, bouncing a little on the sofa and he gives him the largest, brightest grin possible. Kihyun swallows the spoonful of cereal and dread alike, and oh good lord, that’s not good, that is  _ so, so  _ not good. 

“So,” he starts in a singing voice and Kihyun’s initial reaction is to wish to stab himself with the spoon he’s holding, “You and Wonho hyung.” 

He debates whether it’s worth the effort to play dumb and pretend he has no idea what Minhyuk is referring to, but the walls inside are rather paper-thin and well, there’s also the fact that neither he or Wonho were particularly quiet the night before. It was bound to happen sooner or later, anyway. 

Getting fucked within an inch of his life against their bedroom door warranted the sooner, if Kihyun is being honest.

“What about us?” He asks instead, carefully eating his cereal as if his life depended on it. 

“What about it indeed,” there’s a sing-along note in Minhyuk’s voice. 

Kihyun almost snorts into a spoonful of milk before he gets himself under control, “Just ask what you want to ask and stop insulting us both with this chit chat.”

Minhyuk leans back dramatically, throws one arm over his face for added measure. 

“Here I am, coming to my best friend…”

“We’re not best friends, seriously, who told you that lie.”

“... out of goodness of my own heart…”

Kihyun can feel his mouth twitch, “Sick curiosity rather.”

“...and this is the treatment that I get. For shame, Yoo Kihyun, for shame!”

“You have no shame to speak of.” Kihyun finally gives in and laughs, uses the spoon to flick milk at Minhyuk and his overdramatic ass just because he can. 

Minhyuk slaps his shoulder, “You’re being difficult on purpose.”

He is. Minhyuk thrives on this sort of shit anyway, so Kihyun fails to see why he should stop. He shrugs and puts away his empty bowl, stretches out and a few of his joints crack. 

“And you’re poking around something that doesn’t concern you,” he says after a while and earns another slap, this time one slightly harder. “What?”

“Seriously though. You and Wonho hyung?”

Kihyun sighs, rubs a hand over his face, decides to just get it over with because Minhyuk can be an annoying pain in the gizzard and Kihyun isn't up to dealing with it. “Seriously though,” he mocks, “What about us?”

“What’s this all about? When did it happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Oh good, a hundred and one question round so early in the morning. Fuck him, Kihyun should have known that if he gave an inch Minhyuk would take a whole damn mile.

“It’s just me and Wonho hyung, Min. Nothing more, nothing less,” he says simply because that is the truth of it, it's just him and Wonho, “It doesn’t change anything.”

Minhyuk gives him a long, flat look that clearly says “ _ you’re seriously an idiot” _ and yeah, maybe Kihyun is, because this is bound to blow up in his face sooner or later but for now he's not going to worry about it.

The sex and comfort he gets is worth it.

He thinks he’s off the hook so he stands up to make his way back to the kitchen, dispose of the bowl and make some coffee when Minhyuk speaks out again.

“I’m glad. I'm happy for you.”

Kihyun turns around in surprise because getting laid on a semi-regular basis is nice, sure, though not exactly this sort of confession worthy. And from Minhyuk too, the same Minhyuk who literally saw him pick guys up or get picked up for a one night stand. 

“Ok,” he says sort of dumbly after a while of a silence way too long to be natural, “Thanks. I guess?”

Minhyuk groans, “Oh my god,” before he covers his face with a pillow. Kihyun just chalks it up to Minhyuk being, well, Minhyuk and doesn’t address it anymore, just leaves the room. 

Not that there is anything to address in the first place. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing to address, just move along, move along, nothing to see here. 
> 
> Oh, Kihyun. 
> 
> anyway, feel free to come and yell at me over on twitter @[alielle](https://twitter.com/alielle)


	4. Chapter 4

“Don’t you think Kihyunnie changed a lot?” 

The question comes up so unexpectedly that Wonho barely misses his thumb with the hammer upon hearing the words. He manages not to injure himself before he looks up with what must be the most dumbstruck expression ever, he’s sure of it. 

Shownu’s looking straight at him with a pleased smile, one completely unwarranted since he and Shownu have been setting up the new coffee table for the past hour. 

They haven’t been overly successful so far.

Wonho’s not entirely sure why they decided that on the one, rare as a gem, day off they both had, the best choice they could have made was to go for some impromptu furniture shopping. But that’s exactly what they did. The old coffee table looked like shit, with burn marks on the surface and one leg already cracking and yes, it warranted a change, but it should have probably been discussed with everyone else, but... 

But they did and now they’re one, old coffee table short and the new one is strewn around them in pieces and they’re trying to figure out the instructions and what goes where and why the fuck there are so many nails and screws.

The goal was to surprise Minhyuk, Hyungwon and Kihyun after they come back from their daily jobs and a large grocery run respectively.

There’s a huge chance that it might … not happen the way they planned.

But back to the statement at hand-

“I don’t think he did? I mean,” Wonho rubs the back of his neck lightly in confusion, “Kihyun’s Kihyun.” 

Shownu laughs, shaking his head as if Wonho just said the best joke of the century. He feels like he’s missing something major here, so he - somewhat defensively- says, “What.”

“He’s been much calmer these days,” Shownu clearly takes pity on him, though how that’s supposed to explain anything is beyond Wonho. “Haven’t seen him with a split lip or a blackened eye in a while .”

Well… ok, Wonho thinks to himself as he picks up the hammer. That’s probably true, Kihyun hasn't gotten in a fight in a long, long time. 

“Maybe he finally decided they’re not worth it? Give me that big one.”

“Or,” Shownu stretches out his hand to pass him the requested nail, “Maybe it’s you.” 

Wonho hums, most of his focus on the literal task at hand already. There’s some sense in what Shownu’s saying - sex is always a good outlet for bottled up emotions. 

And well. 

From Wonho’s point of view, they’re doing a pretty good job whenever they fuck. Nothing like sex with someone who you trust and all that. 

“Maybe,” he agrees absentmindedly after a while, “Now come on, let’s try and get this finished before they come home.” 

They don’t finish before the rest gets home and while MInhyuk’s reaction is to start laughing so much he can barely stand, Hyungwon’s got the look of someone who is clearly doubting their common sense and Kihyun looks like he’s a breath away from a stroke. 

They throw both Wonho and Shownu out into the kitchen with the task of unpacking the groceries and to stay the fuck away from the living room until called. Hyungown and Kihyun finish setting up the coffee table while grumbling and muttering, Minhyuk’s running commentary a steady background noise. 

“You can’t build for shit, what on earth were you thinking?” Kihyun asks later when they’re turning in for the night. 

He’s been on about that failed attempt for the whole evening, even if the table looks pretty damn good; first, it was about the unnecessary cost and then the ridiculous idea of Wonho and Shownu actually making the attempt of putting it up. 

Wonho merely shrugs and Kihyun looks at him with so much exasperation it should be offensive, but there’s a twitch to his mouth so Wonho’s not going to bother with pretenses or excuses.

“Wanted to do something nice, you know. Contribute to the household,” he says and reaches out, puts his hands on Kihyun’s waist before he can get completely dressed. His skin is smooth and warm under Wonho’s palms and Kihyun sighs, shakes his head.

“You’re such a pain in the ass, sometimes,” he says fondly, oh so fondly and drops the shirt to the floor, “Do you know how much cleaning up that whole mess took?” 

“Nope,” Wonho grins wide and unabashed because Kihyun’s stepping closer and he’s got that fun gleam in his eye, “I was in the kitchen, slaving away to make supper. Because you sent me there.”

“We had instant food, you ass, what did you slave away with, boiling water in the electric kettle?”

“Oh shut up and come here already.” 

Kihyun actually does shut up, but only because Wonho kisses his wide smiling mouth, kisses the laugh straight from his lips as he guides them towards the bed.

He has a fleeting thought that it’s been a while since they needed some sort of excuse to do this and that it’s way easier than it probably should be, but then Kihyun’s teeth are at the base of his neck and so is his tongue over his pulse, and Wonho loses track of everything that’s not them, loses it between his own rumpled sheets. 

\---

The first time Wonho realizes he might be biting off more than he can actually chew - figuratively speaking - is when they’re out in a club. Contrary to the last time they went to a club when he felt like jumping out his skin, Wonho’s actually enjoying himself, half-hanging off Hyungown’s shoulder as the younger man shares embarrassing Minhyuk stories from when they lived alone. He’s delivering them with a perfectly straight face and deadpan voice which only adds to the comical effect and who even knew Hyungwon had this much talent for storytelling. 

He’s been living with the guy and he never knew Minhyuk once lost all his clothes during a naked poker game and walked three blocks with his dick and ass on full display.

It’s just him and Hyungwon and Jooheon at the table, the stories delivered per Jooheon’s request and he’s laughing so much he has tears running down his cheeks. 

They’re actually celebrating all proper that eve. Finals were over and the boys were worth throwing a little party. 

Chankgyun dragged Kihyun off the dancefloor a while ago, the music upbeat and pulsing; Shownu went to work his charms at the bar, with Minhyuk in a huffy tow - throwing a fake tantrum at his boyfriend spilling his dark secrets - to help out. 

They learned a long ago that sending Shownu for drinks was a sure way to get them cheaper and stronger; barmen always recognized one of their own and made the drinks more potent. It’s like bartenders had some sort of a secret signal or something, but in the end, it was not anything to ponder about. It got them better drinks so to hell with everything else. 

Everything is loud and colorful, and Wonho’s feeling warm due to how crowded the place is and the alcohol he already consumed. Hyungwon’s perfectly composed facade cracks finally and by the time the remaining two come back with trays of shots and drinks, they’re just laughing and laughing at whatever, punch drunk on the atmosphere and elation and everything else.

Minhyuk pretends to be offended, huffing and puffing like a petulant child but Shownu gives him short “oh, get over it” and a manly slap against the back, one that sends him literally flying sideways into the booth. It’s a flurry of limbs and Minhyuk’s knee hits the table - glasses dancing and threatening to spill - before he’s pulled against Hyungown’s side, held close and tight, Hyungwon’ hiding his huge ass smile in the mess that’s Minhyuk’s hair. 

“I hate everyone in this bar,” Minhyuk protests but he makes no attempt to free himself from his boyfriend’s grip, and Wonho just slides a shot his way.

“Sure you do, princess,” he grins, salutes with his own glass, “Now shut up and drink up.” 

He’s not sure how much time passes before he lets Jooheon tug him towards the dancing crowd, feeling happy and light and bubbly, the alcohol, the flashing lights making everything sort of fuzzy and unfocused. Jooheon is still hiccuping from laughter, saying something about Kihyun and Kyun that gets lost in the music, but it doesn’t matter because that’s when Wonho sees them and they’re somewhere close to where the middle is supposed to be. 

They’re dancing back to back, Kyun’s head thrown back against Kihyun’s shoulder and he’s laughing too, that kind of drunk happy laugh that shakes his whole body, their movements not exactly in rhythm to the music but it seems not to matter to either of them. They’re quite similar to each other, build and height alike and they look ridiculous like that, two sharp boys among a swarm of people, simply lost in their own kind of a happy haze. Changkyun looks very much like the college student he is and Kihyun looks like one he never got to be. 

Wonho’s unable to stop his smile as Jooheon immediately lets go of his wrist and makes a bee-line for Changkyun, falling into them both and only not knocking them down because of Kihyun’s arm around his waist, holding him upright. He looks so happy, so free of everything he usually carries with him that for a second Wonho freezes, just looks and looks at the way Kihyun pats Jooheon down, ruffles his hair with unbridled affection. Kyun’s already unwrapped himself from Kihyun, already reaching out and pulling Jooheon against him with a hundred-watt smile, pulls him into an easy clumsy kiss and Kihyun looks at them with so much affection it makes something within Wonho’s chest flare up. 

And then Kihyun looks straight at him and that affection amps up by god know how much, his smile widening and eyes brightening under the strobe lights.

“Hyung!” He calls, happy, _ so happy _ , reaching out and Wonho crosses the remaining distance without thinking, drawn to Kihyun as he always has been. He grabs Kihyun’s hands, let’s their fingers tangle together and they bump into each other, Kihyun grinning up at him, “Decided to join us?” 

There’s the sweetness of alcohol on his breath and for a splinter of a second, Wonho sort of wants to lick the remains of it from his mouth, but it’s not for here and now, maybe later if they’ll manage to remain conscious enough, so he just bumps his forehead against Kihyun’s lightly. 

“Jooheon was scared he’d get lost along the way,” he teases, gives his hands a gentle squeeze and it should be impossible but Kihyun smiles even wider, those dimples at the top of his cheeks appearing and his eyes turning into tiny crescents. 

“You’re such a good hyung.” He tugs a little at Wonho’s hands, presses himself closer, “Come on, dance with me.” 

It’s more goofing around than dancing really and they get some definite odd looks; but it’s like Kihyun’s dazzling mood is more intoxicating than alcohol and Wonho can’t find it in himself to give a fuck about anyone else. Wonho’s laugh bubbles out of him with every over the top move and Kihyun's downright hiccuping when he’s twirled around. 

“Oh my god, they’re embarrassing,” he hears Changkyun’s not-so-subtle remark. 

“Fuck you,” Wonho replies, does a little shimmy to the side so he shoulder checks him, makes him stumble right into Jooheon’s arms. “Respect your elders, kid.” 

“I saw you butt naked, hyung! No respect here!” 

Kihyun laughs so hard his knees almost give out under him and he leans onto Wonho, pressing his face into his shoulder. Wonho grins, flicks Changkyun off and wraps an arm around Kihyun to steady him.

“You hear that?” He asks and underneath the lights, Kihyun’s eyes are crazy bright and happy, ”Brats. Ungrateful brats.”

“We used to be brats too, hyung,” Kihyun grins and it’s that sort of starry-eyed smile, the one that lights him up and makes Wonho feel more drunk than all the drinks and shots he had that evening. 

The songs change, the lights dim as the rhythm turns slower, the bass thrumming through the crowd. Wonho wants to turn away, go back to the table but Kihyun just pressed himself closer, all liquid grace along with the beat of the music.

“Come on, hyung,” he says, voice thick like when he’s suggesting they fuck and just like during those times, Wonho feels his lips curl and a slow, hot sizzle rake up his spine.

So he dances.

It’s more of a rub and grind than a dance this time, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is the sudden dark and warm bubble they are suddenly in.

“I can’t dance for shit,” Wonho admits, smears the words against Kihyun’s ear.

They’re pressed so close there’s barely any air between them, Kihyun’s hands clasped around Wonho’s neck. 

Kihyun laughs again, the sound louder than the beat and the music and the remixed lyrics, turns his head and their lips  _ almost _ brush, they graze the corner of Wonho’s mouth when he speaks, “Neither can I.”

It makes a laughter bubble out of him, that kind he's unable to hold in. 

It feels unreal, a cloud of music and booze and the strobe lights. It feels, it feels, like an alcohol-induced fantasy, Kihyun up close, moving like water against him and under Wonho’s hands, and for a hot second Wonho wants nothing more than to preserve this moment when the world is narrowed down to the two of them, just and only two of them. It’s a moment he wants to cut out of time, tuck it into the pocket off his shirt; carry it around with him for days to come.

He wants to lean in, kiss Kihyun right then and there out in the open - for Jooheon and Changkyun and everyone to see- and the want is so strong, so sudden and in the same time not so sudden at all, that Wonho forces himself to move away from him a little, not too much, just enough before he more orders than asks, “Drinks.”

Kihyun looks as dazed as Wonho feels, but then he simply wraps his fingers around Wonho’s wrist and Wonho follows him through the crowd; he’s only surprised when Kihyun guides them towards the bar and not the table. 

“You know we got a whole lot of stuff back there?” He asks as Kihyun flags the bartender down. 

It’s still loud around the bar and quite crowded but as usual, people tend to part ways when they see guys like them, so they get to the front quickly and without too much of a hassle. 

“I know,” Kihyun nods as he leans his back against the bar. 

He’s flushed from the dancing and the heat on the dancefloor, hair slicked back; he’s still smiling wide though, looking straight at Wonho and for a moment Wonho’s distracted by how pretty he looks like this. He doesn’t say anything for a while and then feels the crowd shift and press against them and with a fake, annoyed sigh he steps in closer, stands between Kihyun’s feet and places both hands on the bar, bracketing his friend in. 

For a moment he’s taken back to the last time they were pressed close at a bar like this, weeks ago, before they ditched everything and everyone and went home alone.

“This is why I prefer bars to clubs,” he complains loudly instead and gets another wide smile in return. “Less sweaty, drunk people, more chances to talk. Without anyone plastered to my back.” 

“Where’s your sense of adventure, hyung?” Kihyun laughs at him and plucks a little at his own damp t-shirt. “Something unexpected can always happen in a club.”

_ ‘Something unexpected already did’ _ Wonho thinks out of the blue and shakes his head, ignores the random thought with all of his might because it feels too much right now. He focuses on the glasses the barman places next to them. He hands one to Kihyun and they clink them lightly, the alcohol spilling over their fingers before they knock them down.    
It burns pleasantly in his throat, pools even better in the depth of his stomach. Kihyun puts his glass away and immediately reaches for the next one, drinks it without hesitation, and then wipes a hand over his mouth. 

“I still fail to see why we couldn’t have gone to the table,” Wonho looks over his shoulder in the direction of their booth. It’s pointless, all things considered, but Wonho doesn’t even really think about the movement. 

With how close they’re standing he can literally  _ feel _ Kihyun’s sigh and the way he reaches out, tangles his fingers in the hem of Wonho’s shirt. The gesture immediately sobers Wonho up; it’s one of Kihyun’s most recognizable ones, not a tug for Wonho to come closer, but a tether, a way to re-focus himself when there’s too much stuff going in his head. 

But he was smiling and laughing just a second ago and Wonho’s still intoxicated enough to get whiplash from the sudden change. It gets sort of worse and better at the same time, when Kihyun leans towards him, rests his forehead against Wonho’s shoulder. 

“You ok there, Ki?” He asks and miraculously his voice is light, not carrying the sudden tendril of worry he feels. “You’re acting odd.”

He drops one of his hands to Kihyun’s waist; either to steady him or to reassure himself, at this point he’s not exactly sure. Kihyun huffs out a laugh, however, nods a little and it causes him to pull the fabric of Wonho’s shirt askew. 

“I’m just…,” he says slowly, voice softened by alcohol and whatever it is that he's trying to put into words before he trails off for a moment. 

Like that, Kihyun’s still not looking at him, just remains tucked into him like a seamless piece, warm and familiar and Wonho feels his chest fill up with way too many things to recognize. There’s a lot of something warm, a heap of affection, and the slightest tingle of worry. It’s a confusing mix to untangle on a good day, not to mention when one’s halfway to happily drunk.

Instead, Wonho gives Kihyun’s hip a light squeeze, “You’re what?”

It takes another long moment but Kihyun finally answers, quiet and slightly uncertain, “Pretty happy.” 

_ Oh _ .

It makes Wonho’s chest feel oddly too tight, too warm. He reaches around Kihyun for his own shot, downs it in one go. For a second he hesitates before he takes the last glass and drinks half of it. Kihyun’s already raised his head and without thinking, Wonho just puts the shot glass to his lips, tips it so that Kihyun can finish the shot.

“That’s good, yeah?” He asks then and Kihyun nods, his fingers tightening on Wonho’s shirt even more. 

“It’s… scary.” Kihyun says and his eyelids flutter, throat working as he swallows, “It’s very scary.” 

He looks oddly innocent all of a sudden, young like he almost never does these days. Wonho blinks and does the only thing he can; presses himself closer, presses their foreheads together. He feels Kihyun’s fingers lose their death-like grip on his shirt, feels them skitter around his waist to the small of his back. Up this close, Kihyun’s eyes are blown wide and pretty, reflecting all the lights from the bar as if they are stars. 

Kihyun looks at him with an openness and trust that anyone rarely ever gets to witness, except when he’s placated with enough alcohol or weed (or both). 

Or when it’s him, Wonho realizes with sudden clarity, because oh god, Kihyun’s never been particularly closed off when it came to Wonho and it works both ways because Wonho could never close himself off from Kihyun as well. 

Not really being able to help himself, Wonho leans in - rubs their noses together, earns a warm, soju-drenched laugh; and Kihyun’s hands clasp around his back, keep him hugged and in one place all proper. 

It’s one of those moments when the world falls away from him. It happens sometimes when they’re together when Wonho becomes so aware of the bubble they can create for themselves he can  _ feel _ it pop up around them. When he gets lost in the gleam of Kihyun’s eyes and the feel of him under his hands, in the knowledge that this is his best friend and he has him at his side. 

And as usual, it’s so fucking breathtaking, so beautiful in how easy, how effortless it is between them. He’s got his arms wrapped around Kihyun’s shoulders and Kihyun is pressed up close to him; with arms tightly wound around Wonho’s waist, foreheads pressed together and smiling at each other. It feels right like it always when they’re together, like it’s been ever since they were fifteen and alone and found out that their broken pieces fit quite well against each other. 

They’re in a rowdy place, people pushing and passing by, the music still thumping and booming from the dancefloor but none of it matters. What matters is the fact that he has Kihyun in his life and only now Wonho truly, truly feels the reality of it.

And yeah. Kihyun’s right.

It’s a scary feeling, but it feels good, like the  _ best  _ kind of scare. 

“I’m pretty happy too,” Wonho says finally and Kihyun smiles up at him even more, that beautiful bright smile he had on the dance floor, the one that Wonho sees way too rarely and the one that - with a sudden pang of selfishness - Wonho realizes he wants to sort of keep only for himself, “Look like we did pretty damn well ever since we left for Seoul, huh?” 

Kihyun ducks his head and tucks it into the crook between Wonho’s head and shoulder. 

“Yeah…” he says, so quiet Wonho barely hears it; his breath tickles Wonho’s skin in a warm puff of air against his neck, “I guess we did, hyung.” 

Wonho wakes up the next morning with a splintering headache, his jeans on and Kihyun in his bed, pressed tightly all against his back, one hand around Wonho;s waist and hand curled into the folds of his shirt over his stomach. 

It’s too warm. 

Too close. 

Too uncomfortable, the waistline and button of his jeans digging painfully into his lower abdomen. His bed is definitely too small for both of them and everything feels too cramped, one of his feet tingling, pins and needles crawling up his calf. 

It also feels nothing short of perfect; even if his eyes are sand-dry and his mouth tastes like something died in it, and there are about a thousand aggravated little men trying to dig their way through his skull. 

Behind him, Kihyun makes a soft, snuffly noise as he presses himself even closer, buries his nose in the fabric covering Wonho's back. He tucks his bare feet between Wonho’s legs, cold toes brushing against his ankles. Without thinking, half-conscious and barely registering anything else, Wonho gently untangles Kihyun’s fingers, laces them with his own and let’s Kihyun’s breathing lull him back to sleep.

They both wake not long after, to a flat that sort of reeks of smoke and alcohol and Kihyun mumbles something about doing laundry and Wonho slaps his ass as he clambers out of the bed and mutters a demand for coffee instead. 

Everyone else is still asleep despite it being almost noon and they can hear snoring coming from Shownu’s room when they go to the living room. The curtains are pulled tight so it’s still more of a greyish haze inside than bright daylight. 

Kihyun works his feet under Wonho’s thighs the moment he sits down, busies himself with his phone and coffee, and Wonho sighs, shifts a little to make himself comfortable, because Kihyun’s got boney feet and they’re freezing enough Wonho can feel it through the fabric of his sweats. He’s also still feeling the unpleasant pulse in the back of his head and the way his skin feels pulled too tight over his limbs, but coffee helps with every sip as Wonho regains the shards of his humanity back.

The hand not busy with the mug is wrapped around Kihyun’s ankle, thumb absently stroking the soft, warm skin there.

It’s quiet and nice, that sort of moment where time merely trickles by instead of flowing. 

“You think we can order in today?” Kihyun asks at one point, voice tired and raspy from drinks and cigarettes from the night before. 

It’s a pretty valid question; Wonho remembers a lot of numbers on their bill from the night before. It was an extravagance on their end and one that would surely make a dent in their budget. It’s barely half of the month and they _ really _ indulged themselves with celebrating. 

He looks at Kihyun then, sees the dark circles under his eyes and the slight swell to his face; he’s going to be suffering from the remains of a hangover for the rest of the day, curling in the corner of the sofa, the lone armchair or in Wonho’s bed, trying to sleep it off. He’ll be withdrawn and quiet, with sluggish moves and bleak eyes, just like he is now when even rising the mug to his lips seems to take him ages.

“Sure, Ki,” Wonho says and feels that warm burst of affection in his tired chest. Kihyun’s eyes are bloodshot and grateful when he looks at him, his hair tousled in every direction and Wonho’s breath catches in his lungs because even like this,rumpled and greyish around the corners, Kihyun is the most beautiful person in Wonho’s eyes and the weight of it lies heavy on his suddenly fluttering heart. With an inhuman amount of strength, Wonho smiles as if nothing’s wrong and says, “Of course we can.” 

He takes his hand away though, fingers tingling at the loss of contact and buries the crazy, clearly hangover-induced feeling deep, deep inside. 

\---

The thing is, Kihyun not once in his life thought about getting tattooed. It’s not like he has anything against people sporting ink, quite the opposite, it’s just that he himself never considered getting one. It was a lot of hassle and he never felt creative enough to think of something meaningful to the point where it would be worth putting on his body. 

So the fact that he does have one still catches him off guard, sometimes. There are days when he sees his distorted reflection in the steamed-up bathroom mirror, sees the black ink on flushed skin, and does a double-take before he remembers that yeah, those are now permanently inked onto his collarbones and the top of his pectorals. 

He got them under the influence of too much soju and Hyungwon, which, in hindsight, probably was the worst combination of factors in Kihyun’s life. He can vaguely make out details of that particular night, mostly made of bright flashing lights and pounding music and the feeling of sudden apathy as he rested his head against Hyungwon’s boney shoulder, some sort of bitter words bubbling out of him as the world around him spun - and then the next thing he actually remembers is that he woke up the morning after with the taste of a dead animal in his mouth, a splintering headache that made his eyes water and a goddamn string of ink flowers strewn across the width of his upper chest.

He remembers staring at them, not exactly sure if they were real or not, but the slight irritation and red skin quickly proved that yeah, they were real as fuck. 

And, well. One more thing. 

Even through the daze of half-digested alcohol he recognized the flowers immediately. Jesus fuck.

They were pretty, varying in size, clean black lines against the irritated tissue. For a moment Kihyun was really was tempted to ask Hyungwon who was brave - or stupid - enough to ink him in his drunk of his ass state with something this detailed. 

He didn’t. 

He also didn’t think about the immediate association he had with those particular flowers, of what,  _ of who  _ they reminded him off; instead he took a quick shower and dragged himself out of the tiny apartment to get some ointment and that was that. 

It was just only after Wonho came back into his life that the whole tattoo flowers were brought up. It was during the very first night when he slept over, when it was still just Shownu’s and Wonho’s, and when Kihyun was changing into Wonho’s borrowed clothes. 

“Oh,” Wonho made a curious little noise from his bed, causing Kihyun to stop and look at him in confusion, shirt up to his elbows already. “I never knew you wanted one.” 

“One what?” He blinked at Wonho then, not getting what he meant at first before he followed Wonho’s stare down to his chest. “ _ Oh _ . These. No. I never thought,- Look. This is actually a result of one soju shot too many and Hyungwon, who is horrible acting as my impulse control.” 

Wonho remained silent for a while before he got out of bed. The room was small enough not to leave much space between them when they stood in front of each other and even years later, when he’s recalling the memory, Kihyun can still remember the uncertainty in Wonho’s eyes, the strange shyness in his voice when he asked, “Can I... ?”

It took a hot second to understand what he meant. 

“Sure,” he shrugged because it was just a tattoo, well-healed and all and not having any meaning at all, and it was  _ Wonho _ , and Kihyun was not about to shy from his touch and attention all of the sudden. “Have at it. It’s all good, hyung.” 

Wonho’s face did something complicated then, lips pulling tight as if in a frown but his eyes were soft, so damn soft it was bordering on painful if Kihyun remembered how it was to read him correctly, as he dragged a thumb oh so gently along the line of Kihyun’s collar bone. 

“Cosmos,” he muttered under his breath after a while, fingertips adorably clumsy against the raise of bone, “You know, my mom always loved them the most.” 

“Oh.” Kihyun nodded, swallowed thickly because huh, yeah well, he knew that back in the day and chose to ignore it completely, and then he shrugged, “I- I wish I could remember what was I thinking when I got them. And why flowers at all, they’re not the epitome of manliness or anything, but I guess, hey, at least they're pretty, right.” He laughed then and finally pulled his shirt over his head breaking the moment.

All of those memories come rushing back to him one night because while Kihyun doesn't think much - or at all, really - of the cosmos flowers that are strewn prettily across his collarbones, ever since they decided to fuck on a regular basis, it’s clear that they’ve quickly become one of Wonho’s favorite points of focus. 

“They’re so pretty, Kihyun” Wonho tends to mutter against the black ink, biting and sucking at the petals so that they fill with color for days to follow, “So, so pretty.” 

If it was anyone else, Kihyun would protest about wearing marks that are so fucking visible from underneath his shirts all the time, but to be fair, Kihyun’s not exactly better and Wonho’s neck more often than not looks as if he’s been mauled, so he has no right to complain here. 

A casual arrangement or not, from day one it’s been clear as day that they both enjoy leaving their marks on each other, an  _ I was here _ memento that lasts until they tumble into the bed again. 

The first time Hyungwon saw them on Kihyun, he clucked his tongue with way too much glee and asked if he got in a fight with a vacuum cleaner. 

Kihyun, without missing a beat, showed him the finger and told him to fuck off, he had no room to speak, not after things Kihyun has seen. 

(Which forever shall remain unnamed, if Kihyun has his way.)

On this day, this particular time it’s the same; Wonho is busy with leaving marks to fit the contour of the flowers, muttering nonsense about how pretty they are, how good they look splattered against Kihyun’s skin. They’re not even doing much more, all clothes still on and in all honesty, they were supposed to simply go the fuck to sleep, but then, right before Kihyun could climb up to this bunk for the night, Wonho tugged him close, pulled the collar of Kihyun’s shirt down enough so he could mouth at the flower at the top of his right collarbone. 

They’re not even drunk or high, and still, somehow everything feels languid, precariously slow; Kihyun feels oddly bone-tired and weary, and most of all, he really,  _ really _ wants to go to sleep, but this, this is nice too, being held so close, Wonho’s soft smooth mouth on his skin and hands on his waist, voice a low rumble close to Kihyun’s ear. It makes him feel boneless and so warm, his fingers tangled in Wonho’s hair loosely, without any real purchase. 

“You’re so fucking weird,” Kihyun mutters out all of the sudden, head lolling to the side to give Wonho more access and the noise Wonho makes is happy and excited and it thrums through Kihyun’s whole body, “What is it with you and my tattoos anyway.” 

“Told ya, Ki. My favorite flowers,” Wonho tugs at his shirt in an attempt to get access to more skin, tugs and tugs until Kihyun just gives in, bats him away for the whole three seconds it takes him to take the garment off, “On my favorite person.” 

“God, so cheesy,” he laughs as he folds the shirt away. Wonho’s watching him with darkened eyes, but it's a strange mixture of arousal and something else, something too real for Kihyun to process right now when his brain is sloshed with too many emotions, but it feels odd in a familiar way.

“Why am I the cheesy one all of a sudden?” Wonho all but pouts, all fake wounded eyes and comically pursed lips and god help him, Kihyun can’t do anything else but smile, “You know you’re my favorite person, Ki.”

It makes something incredibly warm unfurl in the depth of Kihyun’s stomach; and yeah, he sort of knows. Sort of always knew, always  _ hoped _ , but to hear it said out just like that, as easily as breathing, it stirs up something real good within him.

“Jesus fuck, hyung, you’re so fucking weird,” Kihyun repeats over a painful thump inside of his chest and reaches out, fingers curling at the back of Wonho’s head so that he can pull him in for a kiss.

It’s slow and deep, even if he can feel Wonho’s eagerness to go back to what he was doing just seconds ago, but even with the sizzling anticipation he can feel under Wonho’s skin, the kiss is in no way rushed. It feels different and fundamental in some way Kihyun is not sure how to describe or understand at the moment, so he focuses on it only, leaving thinking for some other occasion.

Everything becomes a strange haze then, soft and languid like it never is with them and Kihyun just lets himself be moved around, maneuvered by Wonho’s hands and mouth. 

It’s just too easy to feel boneless, anchored by Wonho’s warm, familiar weight; his hands loosely wrapped around Wonho’s shoulders. Too easy to lose himself in this, in the way they fit seamlessly. Again, once again, everything slows down impossibly so; Kihyun merely registers the break in kissing, the first little sharp sting of Wonho’s fingers pressing inside of him. He makes some stupid little noises, he’s half-aware of those, constantly tugging and pulling at Wonho’s hair; it’s like he’s half-delirious, demanding kisses upon kisses upon kisses and Wonho always comes, always replies in kind, mouth metal-cold against Kihyun’s, tongue clever, teeth sharp. When Wonho fucks him, it’s slow and steady, long deep thrusts that punch the breath out of Kihyun’s chest and he never stops kissing him through it all, until Kihyun is a mess of shaking limbs and Wonho’s name seems the only thing he can whisper.

The next morning, every single flower on Kihyun’s skin is dark red and purple, colors pulled to the surface in a vicious bloom. The flush from a hot shower only enhances their hues, draws his eyes to the watercolor-like blossoms. Watching his reflection in the bathroom’s mirror, Kihyun presses his thumb to the one in the dip between the collarbones; feels the barely-there ache, remembers the delicious, molten-hot tingle that crawled down his spine when Wonho pushed him down onto messy covers, pressed him down slowly, gently. He thinks of how unhurried, achingly gentle last night was, thinks of the way they murmured to each other instead of letting out strings of loud gasps and moans and curses. He remembers his hands all over Wonho’s back, aimlessly wandering it’s broad plane before he let them drop to his sides, only for Wonho to grab one, twine their fingers together, and hold on. He thinks of Wonho’s fingers gentle on his cheeks when they kissed to the steady, slow rhythm they built between them and how it felt less than a fuck and more of something way more profound.

They slept together afterward that night, Wonho’s sleepy murmur of “just stay” turning Kihyun’s bones to liquid and his resolve to mush; he rested his head on Wonho’s chest after a clumsy clean up, felt and heard his heartbeat - strong and steady and as if in sync with his own- and allowed it to lull him to sleep. 

All safe and warm, tucked into Wonho’s side.

And so, right now, Kihyun splashes cold water against his face, forces himself to breathe steadily. He pretends there is no sudden vulnerability in his eyes and with his head held high, he steps out of the bathroom as if nothing has happened, as if nothing has changed.

Because it didn’t.

_ It didn’t.  _

The only difference is, Kihyun chooses to sit by Shownu’s side when they’re eating out later that day, but Wonho’s too busy fighting with Hyungwon over the last bit of fried rice and he doesn’t really pay attention. He’s a little bit more quiet than usual during the meal, but everyone else is not and so, nobody notices that there’s anything off. And well, aside from his strangely stilted breathing, not much is. 

Kihyun’s too busy telling himself nothing has really changed - that things are the same as they have always been - to acknowledge that as soon as they’re outside, walking back home, he immediately falls into step with Wonho, right there by his side. Wonho laughs at some lame-ass joke Jooheon makes, but he also wraps an arm around Kihyun’s shoulder as he usually does and then, Kihyun’s breathing gets a little bit easier. When Kihyun  _ does _ notice that he’s back in Wonho’s orbit, they’re already home, pressed side by side on the floor at the sofa, Hyungwon hogging the remote control and calling the shots on what they’re watching that eve. 

He can’t sleep later on that night, even if the whole apartment is quiet and the only noises are the muted ones coming from the world outside, the glass windows not thick enough to keep it at bay. Kihyun lies on his side with the covers pulled over his head, curled into a tight little ball. His eyes burn and his heart is hammering inside of his chest because he feels like he's filled to the brim all of the sudden and he’s not able to keep everything in anymore and things are about to overspill.

Kihyun presses his teeth into the knuckles of one hand, focuses on the sting and not the fact that he fucked up, he fucked up so bad and he knows he’s gonna pay through the nose for all of this.

And the worst of it all is, he knows he’s not going to stop, either. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *toot toot*  
> we are leaving physical-ville and entering emotional-town! 
> 
> screams and yells are welcome.   
> and you can always poke me over at the bird app at [ @alielle ](https://twitter.com/alielle)


	5. Chapter 5

Wonho isn’t entirely sure why he goes out - alone - one particular night. Or why he chose to go away from their usual neighborhood and cozy little local bars, where they usually hang out. Everyone except Kihyun was at the apartment, gathered around for drinks and movies. Even Shownu had a free night, after Jooheon pestered him for a whole week to take some time off and spend it with them. Wonho guesses it was the “ _ but, but Shownu hyung, we miss you _ ” that got him, because for all the scary looks Jooheon sports, he’s got a pair of the most effective puppy-eyes Wonho has ever seen. 

For a moment he debates staying inside, it lasts for a whole five minutes before he hears the argument over Lord of the Rings and an Avengers marathon and he locks himself in the bathroom to get ready. He feels like there’s a thrum under his skin, an annoying itch he needs desperately to scratch and doing a round at five or six bars seems the best idea to ease it. 

So Wonho chooses to go out, ignoring Minhyuk’s running commentary on how extra he looks and how much of a shame it’s that Kihyun’s not even there to witness it, throws a goodbye over his shoulder and leaves the house. He jingles the keys in his pocket all the way to the first bar, a little spring to his step as he crosses street after street. He walks away from the regular bars they hang out at, goes to something that’s not exactly his scene, not his first choice. It’s not like he’s looking for something particular on that night, but somehow, deep down inside he feels like a change of scenery might do him good.

He’s been too entwined in the small world of their apartment and Kihyun lately, too lost in the familiarity of their touches during the bright light of the day and caresses in the dark of the night - and today all of the sudden, Wonho felt like he needed to just… breathe on his own. He feels like he needs to exist outside of their tight-knit tandem. And it’s not even like Kihyun’s presence is stifling or overbearing - far from it because Kihyun is actually one of the least intrusive people Wonho knows - but lately, lately Wonho feels like something has changed, like he’s losing sight of the clear lines they had set between them. 

He needs to take a step back and clear his head, because he feels like he’s tiptoeing around something and he’s not exactly sure what it is.

Good old Lady Luck is on his side that evening, he thinks, as a couple leaves just as he arrives at a bar; Wonho slides onto the fancy high stool and orders a beer. He’s not dead set on drinking himself into oblivion, he just wants to relax and unwind all on his own. The music is not too loud, enough for the majority of the noise coming from conversations around him; the lights are not too overly bright, but just enough to be enjoyable and cozy. 

Wonho enjoys his own company, slowly sipping on his beer and reading up on news and social media on his phone. He catches up on some celebrity gossip, snorts at seven hundred or so new ads popping up for some pretty idol’s birthday - god, what a waste of money, that, he thinks as he scrolls down that particular bit of pointless information. Time slows down pleasantly, the hum of conversations and clinking of glasses around him a comfortable background white-noise.

He’s half-way through his second beer and he has picked up a short story to read when someone’s laugh breaks through, registers in the back of his mind as something unexpected, something surprisingly familiar. Wonho raises his head slowly, as if in a daze, looks around in confusion. For a second he’s certain he imagined things or that he really has been spending way too much time with Kihyun to hear his laugh in a place like this. 

But then he actually  _ sees _ Kihyun, laughing loud and bright, and like usual, all of the world narrows to him and him only for the duration of a few seconds before more details register and the aforementioned world crashes around him.    
More importantly, the sight of a girl in Kihyun’s arms registers, her absolutely smitten expression and Kihyun leans in and rubs their noses together in the most adorable manner possible. 

The beer turns immediately foul in Wonho’s mouth as he forces himself to swallow it through a suddenly dry, closed up throat. He’s unable to look away, taking in Kihyun’s clothes and how good he looks in a crispy white button up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The girl laughs too, presses a quick kiss to Kihyun’s cheek and leaves a lipstick print there, like a vicious red mark against Kihyun’s skin. 

And Kihyun just shakes his head oh so fondly and Wonho’s been on the receiving end of that sort of gesture so many times, and so was Jooheon, so was Changkyun and even Hyungwon, he always thought it was for their family only, but now there’s this girl who receives it and Wonho’s stomach does something very unpleasant. He’s aware that he should stop staring, that it's an invasion of privacy, but then the girl slips in closer, half way into Kihyun’s lap.

She’s pretty as a flower, with perfectly curled hair and her red lips and a matching dress that flares around her thighs. Kihyun’s arm looks comfortable where it’s casually draped around her bare shoulders and...

And Wonho’s unable to look away. 

It's a strangely unfitting crowd, the one Kihyun is with, more of good family college kids they all never got to be than their own rag-tag company of dropouts. The girls are all prim and proper, the boys all smooth and so casually elegant, and shit, even Wonho knows big fashion brands the moment he sees them. How did Kihyun end up with them is probably going to forever be a mystery to Wonho, but he  _ looks _ like he’s an integral part of the company and seems to fit right in, talking and laughing and clinking glasses whenever there's a toast made. 

He looks like he  _ belongs _ there.

The girl in his lap seems to be glowing, pretty as a wild poppy flower when Kihyun whispers something to her ear and rubs his thumbs over the smooth curve of her shoulder; her cheeks flushing further, to the shade that matches her dress and even  _ that  _ is a good look on her. She seems to fit strangely seamlessly in Kihyun’s space, her softer curves pressed close to Kihyun’s sharp angles and Wonho feels a sudden wave of sickness come over him. 

He leaves his beer unfinished, leaves the amount he needs to pay and then some and leaves the bar before there’s even a chance that Kihyun would look from his polished companions and see him there. 

He wanders the streets aimlessly for a long while, crosses street by street, until he finally starts heading home. He feels… drunk, with how his thoughts are scattered and his head feels like spinning, but there has been way too little alcohol for him to actually be drunk. 

He  _ knows _ it’s the sight of Kihyun that’s unsettled him so, but he’s unable to process it fully just yet - or why does it hurt and why so much.

The other boys are still gathered around their coffee table and they seem excited to see him back home early, or so he makes out from their cheers, but he says an excuse or two, something about not feeling well and going to bed earlier. He must look the part too, because they let it go immediately and Jooheon’s eyes pinch at the corner as he asks if Wonho needs anything.

He shakes his head and makes it through the motions in a sort of detached haze; barely registers the sting of hot water against his skin or the way he rubs it raw-red with his towel.

His sheets are a mess from when he didn’t make them in the morning and his stomach coils cold at the thought that he’s probably going to smell Kihyun on his pillow; they once again spent the night together, slept curled around one another. They were in no hurry to get up that morning, too comfortable in a tight cocoon of Wonho’s sheets and each other. 

Waking up to a sleep-soft Kihyun seems so far away now, as Wonho slips into his bed, curls in on himself and tries to make sense of everything. 

Wonho sort of wants to punch himself right in the face for losing himself like this. He’s not entirely sure how he allowed himself to be lulled into this sense of false certainty, into this illusion. He isn’t sure why he forgot what they were to each other - just two friends with no commitment to each other.

Worst of all, the fact that Kiyun never told him he's seeing someone  _ stings _ . 

With how close they are - or at least, with how close Wonho  _ thought _ they are - Kihyun’s lack of communication hurts the worst, like Wonho wasn’t trustworthy or just worthy of being told. Didn’t he deserve some sort of honesty in between all of this? 

He thought he and Kihyun were … that they … 

To say he slept like shit would be a very mild understatement. At first he couldn’t fall asleep, tossing and turning in his bed for what seemed to be hours to no end. He was too hot, then too cold; then the pillow was too flat, then too lumpy. Still, when Kihyun came back, he pretended to be fast asleep even if his heart was hammering inside of his chest. He listened to how Kihyun changed into his sleeping clothes oh so carefully, clearly believing Wonho to be asleep; when he climbed up to his bunk, it was just too obvious how hard he tried to not make a sound, in a way only someone drunk off their feet would. 

It’s embarrassing how Wonho could only fall asleep once he heard Kihyun’s breathing level out; once he started making those all too familiar, soft sniffly sounds. 

Still, Wonho wakes up not long afterwards, he's pretty much feeling like roadkill and sick to the very pit of his stomach, just like those few times when he went down with the flu. His feet and hands are sticky with sweat but ice cold. Swallowing seemed to be a goddamn chore and each time it felt like he was trying to swallow around a ball of something made of pins, lodged in the middle of his throat. 

However, he also had a lot of time to think things through and come to certain decisions. 

“Ki, hey, wait.” Wonho rasps out, when Kihyun finally clambers down from the upper bunk. He looks like a righteous mess, clearly having gotten home late if the puffy eyes and slightly swollen face are anything to go by. 

It’s a familiar sight and every other day Wonho would smile at the sight of him, as Kihyun rubs a hand over his face, shifts his weight from one foot to another. When he looks at Wonho, his eyes are bleary, still hazy from a sleep too short. Kihyun looks rumpled and adorable, sleep soft and there’s a pillow print on his cheek. He’s even wearing his sleep shirt on the wrong side.

He also  _ reeks _ of artificial club smoke and some sort of cloying, rich, sweet perfume, there’s a clumsily rubbed smudge of red at the hinge of his jaw and Wonho feels something inside of his chest  _ ache and bleed _ . 

He opens his mouth, closes it briefly to lick his lips and Kihyun raises a brow at him, in clear confusion that slowly, ever so slowly morphs into the slightest annoyance at being held back from his morning activities. Kihyun’s pretty much a creature of habit and he doesn’t like when he’s stopped from doing his routine. 

Best to get it over with, Wonho thinks to himself, and be done with it.

“I want to stop.” He says and it comes out smooth, casual like he was saying the sun is shining.

Kihyun drops his hand from his face and his eyes are comically wide for a second, “What?” He rasps and cringes visibly at the sound of his voice, so he clears his throat. He seems confused for a moment longer before understanding creeps into his eyes, “Oh, you mean, our,- our arrangement?”

“Yeah. Our arrangement.” Wonho nods, as he pushes himself up on his elbows. The word burns in his throat but his voice comes out steady, unfazed. Maybe he should have picked up acting when he was planning out his life as a teen, he thinks bitterly as Kihyun merely blinks at him, clearly not seeing that there’s anything wrong, “I think it’s best if we don’t do that anymore. It was fun while it lasted, but you know. Not a good thing to keep long term.” 

“Oh,” Kihyun nods lighty, then runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back and making it stick out in every direction. He nods again, this time with more conviction and he gives Wonho a small if tired smile, “Ok, yeah, sure. We’re cool, yeah?” He clearly waits for an answer so Wonho just mutters an affirmative. “So. I guess, thanks, hyung, I gotta head off now.” 

He walks out of their room then, yawning widely and making his way towards the bathroom. Wonho listens to the sound of Kihyun’s bare feet on the floor, to the sound of the door opening and closing, the hum of water in the pipes of the building.

Only then he goes back to bed, pulls the covers up over his head and pretends. Pretends he’s going back to sleep, pretends he doesn’t care that Kihyun’s little smile doesn't hurt, that he doesn’t care, that all of this didn’t feel like cutting out a part of his heart and leaving the rest out to bleed. 

\---

Wonho tells himself everything’s going to be just fine and normal. 

It’s anything but. 

He’s reminded of lipstick stains everytime he sees the side of Kihyun’s jaw, he can feel the phantom smell of sweet, flowery perfume whenever Kihyun finds himself too close. 

He finds himself pulling away more and more, at first it’s just sitting on the opposite of the table during meals and choosing the one lone armchair during beer nights. 

But there’s also a bright, sharp kind of hurt sizzling under his skin, grating on his nerves and mind like broken glass. Wonho nurses his ache like a mother nurses a child, holds it close and lets it grow. 

Kihyun doesn’t seem to notice at first; it’s like Wonho’s distance doesn’t affect him all that much. He looks confused at best when he sits down next to him and Wonho leaves five seconds later,but that confusion doesn’t last long. He’s always occupied with whoever else is there with them in the room quickly. 

It makes Wonho think he’s seriously overrated his importance in Kihyun’s life. 

Kihyun starts spending less time around the apartment all of the sudden and it should be some sort of relief, Wonho thinks, it should give him a reprieve from months of being together-not-together, give him room to breathe and process and get over it. But it’s not and it doesn’t. 

Because it just keeps on hurting, Kihyun moving on so easily, so cheerfully. Kihyun leaving the apartment without a word of explenation, throwing a casual  _ see you later _ and walking out with his head held high. And nobody blinks an eye, they don’t care, no one cares, Minhyuk joking for him to be safe and Shownu wishing him fun. And Wonho feels that hurt fill him to the brim, ugly and raw and it slowly starts to trickle out of him in the form of sharp words and cutting remarks.

It twists something dark and ugly in him to see that  _ those  _ manage to hurt Kihyun, he sees it in the way Kihyun starts holding himself back, in how his eyes dim and his jaw clenches. It makes Wonho think of driving a knife further and further, twisting it over and over again; but he feels like he’s bleeding out all the fucking time and he doesn’t want to be alone in this. 

It’s so messed up, but so is he, always been and once he starts, he’s unable to stop. Like picking at a scab, it hurts in the best way.

Truth be told, Wonho awaits a lash out - it’s been a long way since Kihyun took this sort of treatment down after all; he awaits it eagerly because he wants a confrontation, he wants to demand answers he’s not entirely sure he wants to hear. But once again he’s painfully made aware that maybe he never really knew Kihyun at all.

Because all he gets back - is silence. 

How they went there, from being almost loving towards each other - the thought makes him want to hurl on spot, the thought of what they had, what Wonho  _ imagined _ they had - to cold indifference to the point where Kihyun doesn’t even seem to register Wonho’s presence anymore? To this hot ugly urge to cause distress and pain to someone who was the most important person in his life…? 

Wonho’s not sure how to answer all of those. 

Then Kihyun starts making himself scarce; more often than not he comes back home late at night, carrying the stench of alcohol and smoke behind him. He’s always careful to be quiet, believing Wonho to be asleep - though he never is, because fuck him, despite everything Wonho’s unable to fall asleep until Kihyun drags his ass back home. 

He’s always gone by mornings, off to who-the-fuck-knows-where.

Minhyuk gives him suspicious looks but doesn’t say anything; Hyungwon seems to barely notice and Shownu just seems to roll with everything in a manner only he can pull off. The kids, however… 

Changkyun’ quieter than usual and that’s something that fucks up Wonho on a daily basic because Changkyun _ is _ already fucking too quiet for his own good. One of the reasons he’s gotten so much shit in college and outside of it is that his silence is more often than not taken as being cheeky. Half the time he got into scuffles was that someone mistook his quiet for something completely different.

But Changkyun’s silence - while worrying - is not something that is too _ unusual.  _

When Jooheon approaches him carefully one evening,however, Wonho immediately knows this is going to be a conversation he does not want to have. The kid can’t fake anything and his earnest eyes make Wonho want to leave the kitchen, but Jooheon is pretty much blocking the door and sure, Wonho could simply push past him, but slamming him into the doorframe is out of the question. 

Wonho can be a dick when needed or when he wants to but not to Jooheon. 

It would be like kicking a kitten.

If a kitten had piercings, teal hair and a preference for wearing leather head to toes, that is. 

“The hell you want?” Wonho asks instead, not looking at him as he pours the content of a beer can into a tall glass carefully. It’s the one that’s slightly chipped at the edge, but it’s his favorite. 

He’s careful as he doesn't want the foam to overspill, the sticky stains are a bitch to clean. Not that he knew first hand, but he’s heard Kihyun bitch about it more than once.

“Kihyun hyung hasn’t been around too much lately,” Jooheon says quietly, but still he’s as straightforward as possible. Wonho almost feels jealous of his ability to get straight to the point, “Is he ok?” 

Wonho crushes the can of beer a little too quickly, too hard, the metal bending wrong and cutting the inside of his palm. He welcomes the sting; it allows him to focus on this particular one. “He’s busy.”

He doesn't say anything else, letting the heavy bitter words die on his tongue; but at least he  _ knows _ Kihyun is busy. 

After all, Kihyun has been coming home every second day, late into the night, dragging in the smell of sweet drinks and sweeter perfume behind him. Every time Wonho pretended to be asleep, ignoring the cloying scent and the careful, quiet way Kihyun moved around the room. It’s not that hard to figure out what he’s been up to.

“He’s been not answering my phone calls,” Jooheon says and there’s something so vulnerable in his voice that Wonho wants to fucking scream, because he doesn’t want to deal with this, but he has to, because Kihyun’s not fucking there and he loved Jooheon and Changkyun in his own way so much that Wonho feels the physical urge to step up in some way  _ because Kihyun is not here.  _ “I miss him, hyung. I…”

“Look, Jooheon,” Wonho interrupts him sternly, but offers him a half-smile to soften the harsh way he sounds, “Kihyun’s just probably going through something in his head.”

Wonho sure as fuck is going through something in his head. 

To his surprise this doesn’t seem to ease jooheon at all, quite the contrary - he seems even more upset.

“I know.” He says over a heavy sigh, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, “That’s what worries me. I thought you of all people, - ah, it doesn't matter, I suppose. I guess I thought wrong.”

“Yeah, it’s ok,” Wonho says and Jooheon nods, walks away and only then he feels like he can breathe again before he says quietly, to himself only, “I guess I thought wrong too.”

\---

The thing is…

Wonho knows he’s at fault, that their fall out is on him; but whenever he looks at Kihyun, he’s reminded of that one night, of the weight of secrets and withheld information. He’s reminded of the way he realized he lived in a lie, of the painful way his bubble burst and his heart sank. 

He knows this is all fucked up. 

And he’s unable to stop. 

\---

Kihyun isn’t certain why things change the way they do.

Well. No.

That’s sort of a lie. 

He’s not surprised about their arrangement. The end of their sleeping-with-each-other-on-a-regular-basis thing isn’t that much of a surprise, it was bound to happen one day, it’s Kihyun’s life after all.

It’s the whole aftermath he’s slightly confused about. Because Wonho, he,- 

He really seems like he doesn’t want to have anything to do with Kihyun anymore. And Kihyun is not exactly certain he knows the reason  _ why _ . 

Ever since he figured himself out, he’s sure he was extremely careful not to let anything slip. He waited and was patient, despite the buzzing need and want and let Wonho had been the one to instigate more intimate contacts, unless Kihyun’s sense of self-preservation has been thinned out by alcohol or weary. Still, he was certain he did not say or do something stupid. Or, well. Stupid _ er _ , all things considered. 

There were few nights, scattered over the duration of their time together, where they just slept, side by side, and holy hell, those were simultaneously the best and the worst thing for Kihyun. It was so, so close to what he wanted, just right there, right underneath his fingertips when he would wake up plastered along Wonho’s back, half of his face smooshed against the dip between Wonho’s shoulder blades. 

It didn’t happen often and if he woke up early Kihyun was so, so careful to always return to his bed, even if his whole body was still sleep soft and unwilling, even if he wanted nothing more than to curl up against Wonho and come down from the high listening to his heart. 

But that was never a part of their deal, that was just sex and fooling around, even if Kihyun felt like he left a bit of his heart with Wonho every time they parted. But he never demanded more than what Wonho was willing to give him, never really asked for anything more so to suddenly find himself on the receiving end of half-muttered comments, to be brushed off when he looked to his best friend?

It  _ hurt _ . 

And Kihyun doesn’t really know how to deal with that. 

So he goes out more, alone. Their neighborhood is safe, the bartenders know his face in more places than not; and maybe he drinks a little bit too much here and there, maybe he tries to pick someone up but recoils at the first skin to skin touch. It’s a shame, he thinks once he parks his ass at a bar one night and wipes his mouth clear of soju with the back of his hand. 

It’s a shame he had to go and ruin everything, had to go and fall for his best friend, Kihyun thinks as he runs a finger along the wet rim of the glass. And the worst thing is, that it doesn’t really feel like a new thing. Two shots in and he’s unable to lie to himself anymore, there’s no way to keep telling himself that all of this mess was merely a by-product of them sleeping together. 

Because he can remember perfectly the moment when he realized that he was so way over his head that he couldn’t even keep up the pretense that it was all casual anymore, Kihyun almost snorts to himself as he grabs another shot glass. 

There were moments earlier on, too, but he chased them away; pretended it never happened or that the soft way they started to touch each other was born out of a built-up physical familiarity than anything else. Moments when Wonho looked at him in a way that made Kihyun feel warm and safe and cherished.

But then he woke up one morning, way too early, skin too hot and muscles too stiff, nose pressed into the warm skin between Wonho’s shoulder-blades. They were pressed so close, legs intertwined,one of Kihyun’s hands splayed securely over Wonho’s stomach. That all on itself wasn’t all that new or surprising. It happened a few times, the both of them falling asleep in Wonho’s bed, too boneless and breathless for Kihyun to move; but all those times before? He always left the warm cocoon of Wonho’s bed and arms to either start the day or catch a few more minutes of sleep up in his own bunk. 

That particular day he woke up at the crack of dawn too, but instead of slipping away like he should, he drowsily pressed himself closer, tucked his cold feet between Wonho’s calves. Kihyun felt more than heard the sleepy rumble he got in response, felt Wonho clumsily reach and cover Kihyun’s hand with his, sleepily tangling their fingers together and giving them a barely there squeeze. It was just too easy to press his mouth to sleep-warm skin in a half-a-kiss, to hear the steady beat of Wonho’s heart and fall back asleep, tangled in sheets and dawn-grey shadows and each other.

Later, he woke up to Wonho’s bright eyes, an even brighter smile and the thick, rich smell of the good coffee, two mugs already prepared and waiting on their shared, shitty little nightstand. They drank it, huddled by the wall while watching stupid videos on the internet on Kihyun’s phone, pressed side by side; too close, too tight than really needed. And Kihyun felt so warm, so secure, so right - maybe for the first time in his life - when he looked up at his best friend and saw his large, gummy smile, eyes crinkling up at whatever whoever was doing on screen and something inside of him shifted, clicked and his heart gave one sweet, painful thump against his chest and in that moment Kihyun couldn’t pretend anymore.

It took everything, every ounce of self control and self restraint Kihyun ever possessed not to reach out back then, not to take Wonho’s face in his hands and kiss his nose, kiss the smile lines at the outer corner of his eye, not to say something utterly stupid like  _ i’m in love with you  _ or  _ please, let’s stay like this forever.  _

He didn’t. 

He went with every day like before, minding his own business and equally dividing his attention between all of their friends, even if his first instinct every single morning was to turn his eyes, the whole of his attention to Wonho. 

He didn’t. 

He didn’t do anything out of the ordinary and it still changed. Wonho broke their arrangement and right now, he feels like he lost Wonho in the process, with his friend turning away towards Shownu or Hyungwon more. So Kihyun took to his own things - agreed to more of his “dates” than he rejected the offers, like he previously did, despite not really needing the extra money but having way too much time. 

It was … exhausting.

The girls giggled over his scowl becoming more effective, feeling happy and safe with Kihyun at their side as they drank copious amounts of colorful, fancy drinks. They hung off his shoulder, his hand around a tiny waist for support, smelling of rich sweet perfume as they thanked him for the company and safety and Kihyun wondered what the hell was he even doing there, in this colorful fake crowd he hated. 

He wanted to 

But then he’d remember how Wonho would crinkle his nose up at him lately, make a odd comment how Kihyun clearly found new company he’d hang out with - as if he didn’t approve all of the sudden of the fact that Kihyun would go out every now and then, do his thing that did not involve the rest of them - and how it hurt, in a sharp and bright and unexpected way. 

Minhyuk approached him about the whole situation once. 

Of course he did, because underneath the assholish persona and sick curiosity, Minhyuk was kinder than anyone ever gave him credit for.

Kihyun knew his kindness first hand; he also knew he was persistent as a goddamn mule and if he decided on something, he was going through with it no matter what. In all honesty, Kihyun was amazed it took Minhyuk so long to seek him out.

He decided to confront Kihyun on one warm evening when he was alone in his room - Wonho was out working or at the gym maybe or, or just doing whatever Wonho has been doing these days - and climbed into Kihyun’s bed. He plucked the book out of Kihyun’s hands, dropped it to the floor with a loud  _ thud  _ and stretched out along with him. When he was ignored far too long he unceremoniously pushed Kihyun off of his own pillow and demanded answers to what that the fuck was going on and what was Kihyun going to do about it.

But really, what answer was there to give? Kihyun didn’t know.

So he shrugged, said just that and that Minhyuk shouldn’t worry too much, that everything would be fine in time. 

“You’re an idiot,” Minhyuk said and somehow it felt more like a cry than an insult, “How are you such a goddamn idiot, Kihyun, I …”

“I don’t know,” Kihyun said quietly, blinked a sudden mist out of his eyes and gave Minhyuk a smile. He patted his chest in a clumsy attempt of something, “We’ll be fine. We always were going to be fine.” 

He stares at the three empty shot glasses in a neat row on an ugly bar, at the two still filled to the brim. He feels the burn at the back of his throat already, the slight lightheadedness that’s building up. 

Things were not fine, he thinks to himself and wants to laugh and cry because it fucking hurts so much he can barely breathe. 

He thinks of how he left the flat tonight, of Wonho not once looking at him when Kihyun said his goodbye; of a careless, casual, half-slurred remark he wasn’t even supposed to hear about how he’s probably going to find himself someone to fuck in a bar like always.

What always, he wanted to turn back and ask, who on earth was he supposed to fuck in his piss poor state, but what came out was a vicious “fuck yourself” as he slammed the door behind him. 

He knocks the remaining shots down and motions for the guy behind the bar to serve him another round. Another bad idea, his already slowing mind supplies unhelpfully, a very shitty idea, because Kihyun deals with his own hurt by finding things that hurt  _ more _ but Kihyun pretty much is out of anything even resembling good at this point so he’ll take tomorrow’s whatever regret over today’s misery anytime. 

\---

Kihyun stumbles into the apartment at ass o’clock and only with his last threads of rationality does he remember to not use his right hand to support himself on the wall. He’d be the one to clean up any mess come morning, after all. 

And well. The said hand is currently busy clutching his own nose.

His vision is shitty in the dark and Kihyun’s not sure if it’s because of the copious amounts of alcohol he managed to consume or the pulsing pain in the back of his head, but he tries his best to slip out of his shoes and make it to the bathroom without too much noise. 

The stench of his own blood makes him gag with how overpowering it is by the time he actually manages to avoid tripping over all the piled up shoes. He thinks he’s doing pretty well, eyes adjusting to the lack of light and he can make out the general shapes of doors and furniture and well he knows the apartment like the back of his pocket so he should...

“Are you fucking insane?” Minhyuk’s vicious hiss startles him enough to yelp, before he’s blinded by the light as Minhyuk flips it on. He screws his eyes shut because it  _ hurts _ and then there’s a long stretch of a very loaded silence, because Kihyun can only imagine in his half-drunker stupor what Minhyuk’s seeing and then, then, “What the ever loving  _ fuck?!  _ Jesus fucking Christ, _ what the fuck, _ Kihyun.”

Minhyuk’s hands are on him immediately, trying to pry his hand away from his face and he just makes a little pained noise as he shakes his head gently, not to aggravate the pulsing pain and amidst a quietly whispered litany of curses, Kihyun’s herded off half-stumbling to the bathroom. 

The light there isn’t as bright as the one in the hallway and when Minhyuk sits him down on the closed toilet, Kihyun risks opening his eyes once again. 

Minhyuk’s already got the water running in the sink, one of their washcloths in his hand but his eyes are on Kihyun, still red with sleep but wide open. He dampens it and moves to stand between Kihyun’s knees; reaches out with his free hand and wraps his stupid long fingers around Kihyun’s wrist. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he repeats, but there’s less venom in his voice and so much more worry, “Alright. Come on, Ki. Show me.” 

His hand seems so numb by now, almost cramping with how he has kept it pressed against his face for so long and Kihyun is still drunk enough for everything in his body to feel laden, so he just blinks at Minhyuk. Minhyuk, bless his soul and his Kihyun-knowhow, he takes it for what the blink is and gently, oh so gently tugs Kihyun’s hand away, almost immediately pressing the cloth to his aching nose. 

It stings a little as Minhyuk cleans all of the caked blood and snot from his face.

“Well, good news is, it’s not bleeding,” Minhyuk says quietly after a while as he rinses the cloth in cold water.

“Fucking awesome,” Kihyun croaks and he would cringe at how wrong his own voice sounds but half of his face is aching, so he stops himself just in time.

Minhyuk brings the cloth back to his face, dabs gently around his nostrils to get rid of all the gunk he previously missed. He wipes Kihyun’s mouth and chin next - and Kihyun is painfully reminded of the very first time Minhyuk ever cleaned him up, with shaking hands and tears in his eyes, apologizing for nothing, over and over again.

Right now, he just knows what to do and Kihyun looks up at him, as he works without hesitation now, without asking one question even if Kihyun knows there must be a thousand of those in his head.

His lips are tightly pressed, his brows are furrowed in a frown and Kihyun also knows that he owes Minhyuk an explanation. His stomach churns at the thought of it but this is the least he can offer. 

He opens his mouth and gets shushed almost immediately.

“No talking,” Minhyuk says firmly, rinsing the remains of blood under the water and Kihyun is distracted by the pink hue of it for a second, “I don't think you broke anything. There’s a slight cut, we can put one of the butterflies in it if you want. Your lip’s busted too.”

Yeah, Kihyun knows,he knows it fucking well with the faint coppery taste of blood still remaining on his tongue.

“Hands.” Minhyuk orders and Kihyun blinks up at him. 

“I can…” he slurs out because if he focuses, he can probably wash his hands all on his own.

“Bullshit,” Minhyuk reaches for his right hand, tugs him up and Kihyun has no other choice but to follow. “Just... let me.” 

And Minhyuk is still careful as he washes his hand; the water is not overly hot, even if it stings where his knuckles are scraped. It swirls pale red and washed out pink in the sink as Minhyuk dutifully cleans every finger, the spaces between the digits - even takes care to rub more soap around his fingernails, to get rid of all the gunk gathered at the cuticles. 

It should be calming; being taken care of like that and Kihyun trusts Minhyuk with his life, he does, but as usual, there’s that long-forgotten itch under his skin, the one that seems to make his whole body seem like a live wire.

He shifts his weight a little, from left foot to right and back again, as Minhyuk applies some antiseptic cream on the scrapes on his knuckles. 

“Sorry for waking you up,” Kihyun finally says, tries to sound small and docile, because if he won’t, all of the restlessness that’s slowly building up within him - it will simply bubble up and then overspill. 

Minhyuk sighs, “It’s ok. Brush your teeth, I’ll be right back.”

Kihyun waits until the door closes behind Minhyuk before he lets out a long, heavy sigh. He’s feeling so, so tired and so, so high-strung both at the same time; it makes his knuckles itch with the need to punch something again, despite being bruised and skinned. He does as Minhyuk told him to do - he brushes his teeth to the point where the taste of mint is cloying at the back of his throat and his gums bleed and his spit is bright pink against the old porcelain.

He looks less awful than he feels,Kihyun notices as he finally glances up into the mirror. There’s a slight swell to his cheek, nothing that won’t be gone by morning, however. With all blood cleaned, his nose is just painfully red and yeah, there’s a definite cut but Kihyun’s not pressed to cover it up. 

Him getting in fights isn’t all that surprising, or well, it wasn’t for a while. Not that anyone except Minhyuk will ask anything. 

His shirt is pretty much ruined, blood splatters all around the collar and down his chest. He probably could give it a night-long soak and try to save it, scrub all of the blood away in the morning. It used to mean something to him, one the very first presents he’s been given just like that, Wonho bought it just for the fun of it after he moved into the apartment, but in the end, it’s just a shirt and what sense there is in clinging to something as flimsy as threads.

Minhyuk comes back with a bundle of clothes in his hands, ones he sets aside and then helps him out of the ruined shirt carefully. His fingers are cool and gentle on the swelling bruising over Kihyun’s ribs, as he tsks under his nose. 

Kihyun waits patiently, lets Minhyuk look his fill and assess if there’s any more damage. There’s not, Kihyun knows it best but he also knows that Minhyuk needs to see it for his own eyes. 

“I’ve never seen you get this sloppy,” Minhyuk only says as he takes the ruined shirt from Kihyun’s hands and gives it a long look, his face darkening and Kihyun knows he recognizes what it is, too. “I’m throwing this out.”

It’s for the best probably and Kihyun just nods,as he looks down at his feet, “Alright.” 

He dreads going back to his - their - room. 

His mind is starting to buzz again and tiredness slowly is leaving him, leaving anxiety and the need for something in its wake. It’s going to be one hell of a sleepless night, he can already feel it. 

“Come on. You need sleep,” Minhyuk sighs and Kihyun’s unable to hold in a snort. 

“Right.” He says bitterly and grabs the shirt Minhyuk has brought with him. The movement pulls at his aching ribs lightly, but he manages. 

It’s absolutely huge on his frame, almost dwarfing him. It feels  _ so _ good and light, smelling pleasant of their washing powder and Kihyun blinks in surprise, because there’s only person in this messed up household who wears shirts as big as tent and Kihyun just looks at Minhyuk, looks and looks until Minhyuk sighs once again and shrugs. 

“What,” he says defensively, “It was either Hyungwon’s shirt or me going to your room to find your clothes and punching Wonho on the way to your bunk.”

All air is pulled out of his lungs at that, because Minhyuk’s looking back at him unapologetically, his lips a thin line and Kihyun thought he was burning through alcohol and that adrenaline rush, but maybe not, because he had to mishear, there was no way…

“I dare you to tell me this isn’t that,” Minhyuk says finally and his voice is cold and sharp, “I fucking dare you to tell me you’re not this fucked up because of Wonho.” 

Kihyun licks his lip and cringes at the sudden sting, rakes one hand through his hair carefully. “It’s not on him, though.” 

“Don’t,” Minhyuk all but snaps but it’s not directed at him, but because of him, “Just fucking stop and don’t make the same fucking excuses you gave me shit for with Dongwoo.” 

Fucking hell, Minhyuk might as well punched Kihyun in the face with how he recoils at that. Something bright and painful flares up deep within him at the mention of the name and he snarls, lips curling too fast and he can taste blood again, the tender tissue there breaking again.

“This is not the same,” he grits out, curls his hands into fists not to do something stupid and slap Minhyuk in the chest, because Dongwoo was a fucking dick down to his rotten core and Wonho isn’t, he isn’t, even if he doesn’t want Kihyun in his life anymore, “It’s not his fault I fucked up. It’s not his fault I…” his breath hitches and his eyes sting all of the sudden and he’s a split of a second from crying because this is all too much and too fast and he just wants to sleep and forget about this fucking disaster of a night, “It’s not.” 

It comes out pitiful and weak and so fucking unlike him he hates himself a little, but Minhyuk’s hard facade crumbles and he reaches out, pulls Kihyun close. His hug is welcomed and god, it’s so familiar, long arms and large hands and out of instinct, Kihyun presses close into Minhyuk’s frame and over a suddenly tight throat, he tries to breathe.

“I hate it when you become this,” Minhyuk mumbles into his hair after a moment, voice thick and raspy with all of those fucked up emotions they both feel sometimes way too much. “You don’t deserve this.” 

He sort of does, however, Kihyun thinks to himself but merely nods, his forehead resting against Minhyuk’s shoulder. He does because what he said is true, he fucked up and he should have known better, the second he opened his stupid mouth and asked for more than he should have.

“Come on,” Minhyuk says finally, “Sleep. We need to sleep.” 

The dread settles back in the pit of his stomach but there’s reason to what Minhyuk’s saying, he fucking needs sleep. Without any further ado, Kihyun slips out of his jeans and underwear,folds the trousers neatly and puts them away on the hamper before he pulls on the boxers Minhyuk brought. 

Sleep, right.

God he’s not looking forward to some restless tossing and turning, but what else he’s supposed to do?

But then Minhyuk wraps his fingers around his wrist, tugs him with him towards his and Hyungwon’s room and Kihyun stumbles again, tiredness and remains of alcohol and confusion robbing him off his balance.

“Come on, Ki,” Mihyuk whisper-urges, tugging him along.

The room is dark and for a moment Kihyun is disorientated because everything feels different than he’s used to and Hyungown’s sleepy snuffles sound odd and familiar, but it’s been so long and Kihyun’s not sure what to do for a hot second before Minhyuk all but pushes him into the bed. 

Before he can fully register what’s happening and what it all means, he hears Hyungwon make a grumpy, almost unhappy noise of sleepy confusion and then there’s his arm around Kihyun’s waist, pulling him close and Minhyuk climbs in behind him, plasters himself all against Kihyun’s back and tangles their feet together.

His breath catches as he’s tucked in close, his head under Hyungwon’s chin, Minhyuk’s hand on his hip. He’s sandwiched between them, wrapped in their arms and thin blankets; he’s painfully reminded of their tiny flat they used to share, of the first time this happened, with Kihyun shaking off excessive energy between them.

“Sleep,” Hyungwon mumbles, barely conscious and Kihyun’s heart lurches in his chest because he still has this, still has them and his eyes sting again. “Or I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Alright,” he agrees and it doesn’t hurt as bad anymore, to close his eyes and focus on the warmth surrounding him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *twiddles thumbs* will anyone believe me at this point where I say that Kihyun is my favorite....? 
> 
> also, for the story of Minhyuk and Dongwoo, let me advertise that [shadyhon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadyhon/pseuds/shadyhon) will be in charge of that and the Hyunghyuk so keep an eye out! 
> 
> all yells to be directed at me over at [ @alielle](https://twitter.com/alielle) on our favorite bird app.
> 
> And yes we have a chapter count finally! yaay....


	6. Chapter 6

Kihyun stares at the brown spotted mirror for a long, long time. 

He takes a good look at the dark circles under his eyes, at the shadow on his cheeks where it hollowed out over the past few weeks. It makes his whole face look sharper, eyes dimmer. His hair grew out, desperately calling for a cut and keeping it out from his face became more a nuisance each day. The black dye has washed out by now and the dark brown roots slowly are starting to become visible. Longer strands fall into his eyes and he dampens his hand with water, slicks them back. They’re gonna stay up for a couple of minutes and then fall down again, but Kihyun’s counting his scarce blessings where he can. Even if it’s just keeping hair out of his eyes for a moment or two.

With a long sigh, Kihyun focuses on remembering when was the last time he had a haircut and realizes - with a sudden rush, with something bitter laying thick and cloying in his throat - that it was still when he and Wonho were on talking terms. 

Just one more thing he got hung up on when it came to Wonho - he’s gotten so used to him cutting his hair that the mere thought of anyone else doing it made him cringe, made his skin crawl unpleasantly. Jooheon tried it once, after getting anxious by proxy in some strange way, after watching Kihyun constantly struggle with longer plies of hair falling into his eyes. He didn’t even manage to take one snipe before Kihyun bolted from his chair, his heart almost bursting through his chest. He apologized profusely, tried his best to reassure a spooked Jooheon that he was fine and lied that maybe it was time for a hair change, anyway.

At that point, Kihyun thought miserably, what was one more lie, right? Nothing that could hurt (more). 

As for now… Wonho hasn’t talked to him in weeks , save for a cutting remark here or there, and pathetic as it was, Kihyun still could imagine only him doing it and no one else. Even if it leads to him looking like this.

And damn, does he look like shit, Kihyun thinks as his mouth twists into a frown, and truth be told, he feels like shit too. He feels like he hasn’t been himself lately, like some sort of a teenage novel weeping fool, nursing an idiotic ache within him instead of doing something to fix it. 

Even if there’s not much to fix, really. 

Nothing's really broken, well maybe except Kihyun himself, but he long ago made peace with the fact. 

But right now, Kihyun sighs again, he’s been hurting for so long and he’s starting to think that maybe, this time, there’s at least the option of getting away from  _ this _ . A chance to put some distance between himself and the constant source of this consuming ache. He thinks that he can put himself first in a way, even if it means being so damn selfish to do the thing he thought of doing. He’s been called a selfish dick more than once in his life, he figures he might as well live up to that particular opinion. He runs a hand through his hair, pushes it back up and hope it will fucking stay in place  _ again  _ before he grabs the bag that he brought in earlier to pack his toothbrush and his favorite towel, and takes a deep breath.

The guys are still seated around the table playing cards when Kihyun steps out of the claustrophobic bathroom. They were joking and cracking beers open, laughing and enjoying themselves when unnoticed, he sneaked out to the tiny room he and Wonho still shared, despite everything that has fallen apart between them - and because there was no place for either of them to move out - packing up some of the meager belongings he had into a worn out duffel bag. Right now they’re happily loud and exuberant, Changkyun’s cheeks flushed bright red as he’s the butt of some good-natured joke and Minhyuk’s pinching his cheek and pretending he’s been burned. They haven’t noticed him just yet, too engrossed in whatever it is they’re playing and for a second Kihyun watches them fondly, takes in the chaos around them and the way Hyungwon is stealing chips right from underneath Jooheon’s nose, the tower of empty cans Shownu is setting up carefully, meticulously and even the way Wonho is throwing peanuts into the air and catches them with his mouth. 

For a moment everything is alright, everything is fun and warm and family-like and Kihyun loses himself in those few short minutes, lets the hurt and ache and the feeling of being a disappointment fade away, lets their voice and laughs wash over him. 

For a second the duffel bag in his hand is heavy, overly so despite being only half full and he almost hesitates, and of course that’s when Hyungwon notices him. Hyungwon raises one of his brows in surprise; the light from the ceiling lamp catches the silver stud piercing there with a sharp flare and it cuts through the illusion he wrapped himself in. Kihyun’s good mood evaporates and he immediately braces himself for the inevitable questioning. 

“What are you up to, Kiki?” Hyungwon asks, blinks slowly at him and there’s the tiniest slur to his voice and Kihyun wonders how many beers they actually managed to go through when he was throwing his self-pity party in the bathroom. Hyungwon’s question also causes everyone to look at him, as if surprised to see him there. It stings a little, that they truly didn’t notice he was gone but that's good, Kihyun thinks and merely shrugs in answer. Not a good answer clearly, because Hyungwon frowns, mouth bowing in a frown, “I thought we had plans for the weekend?” 

_ They _ had. There were talks of Jooheon’s new piercing and going outside the city, all of them, for a change of scenery. Of spending time together, like they rarely did lately and everyone was looking forward to it, and Kihyun’s about to fuck it all up.

“Lemme guess,” Wonho speaks out before he even has the chance to think of a good answer, voice tight with fake casualness and Kihyun feels something with him wither and give up, “You’re gonna be missing again the whole weekend, fucking around with whatever girl falls onto your dick this time ‘round.” 

He should probably talk back. He  _ wants _ to snap back like he usually tends to do, he really does, but all of a sudden, Kihyun just feels so damn tired. He can feel everyone’s gazes swivel to him and he can almost feel the way they hold their breaths carefully, knows they’re all waiting for a blow out between him and Wonho, because this is what it all has been boiling to, a full spat with how quickly they went from best friends to near-strangers in a matter of a few weeks.

It’s a realization that has been slowly suffocating Kihyun to the point where the only thing he wants to do is hide and lick his proverbial wounds. He looks at Wonho, holds his burning, mocking gaze with a sort of defeated resignation. 

“No,” he says quietly, too tired to hide behind a sharp retort and anger as he usually would. He’s unable to hold onto his shield of anger anymore and god fucking damn it,  _ fuck _ Wonho to hell and back for having this much power over him; and to hell with himself, too, for letting this happen in the first place. “No, I’m just,- I’m just going home.”

The look of Wonho’s face, that sneer from a second ago, is immediately replaced with utter confusion and something he hadn’t seen in probably way too long, something a little more scared and a whole lot softer. 

It almost makes him let out a humorless laugh, to see this particular look directed at him. 

Almost.

He somehow holds it back, almost chokes on it but he manages to swallow around it and straighten his shoulders as Wonho makes an aborted motion; as if he wanted to stand up and come closer. 

It’s a ridiculous thought.

Wonho made it all too clear he doesn’t want Kihyun close anymore.

“But you,-” Wonho falters, and there it is, there’s that almost palpable worry in Wonho’s voice, one to accompany the one in his eyes. Because if there is one person who knows  _ anything  _ about Kihyun’s home, about how it was his hell on earth, of course it’s Wonho. “You hate going back there.”

Fucking irony of things and all that.

Kihyun shrugs as he grabs his jacket from the nearby ratty chair. He mulls over his next words and realizes that he’s run out of fucks to give. Nothing he can say will make it worse anyway.

It’s not like he has any power over Wonho anyway, at least clearly not like Wonho has over him. Nothing he does can make or break his former best friend, even if there was a time he thought it sort of went both ways. One more thing he needs to correct in his life it seems.

“Yeah well,” he finally does let out a small chuckle and it sounds like he’s choking on broken glass, all raw and bleeding out of his throat. Swallowing, he picks up the duffel bag and hoists it up over his shoulder, “Seems no matter where I am, I am a disappointment to someone, so might as well deal with the kind I grew up with and am used to. Anyway, I gotta get going before the subway closes. I’ll,-”, he clears his throat and cracks a smile that’s so fake he’s sure it’s about to fall off from his face and burst into shards at his feet, “I guess I’ll see you guys on Monday.”

The lie slips through his mouth so easily almost he believes it himself. Minhyuk begins to stand up and there’s a knowing glint to his eye, so Kihyun gives him a small smile and all but runs out of the apartment.

—-

They don’t see Kihyun on Monday. 

Or Tuesday, or any other day. 

Kihyun doesn’t come home at all. 

—-

Wonho tells himself he’s not checking his phone every five minutes by the time Wednesday rolls around. He definitely doesn’t look up with hope whenever any of his friends receive a text message and tells himself that he doesn’t feel his heart break when it’s always someone else, never Kihyun. He sleeps like shit in the quiet, oddly empty room, where there are no soft, sleep-quiet snuffles coming from the upper bunk. Where there are no neatly folded clothes next to his rumpled ones.

Where there’s no Kihyun.

He knows he’s the one to blame for all of this, but he buries the guilt deep inside of him and tries to go on like always. But he also knows he shouldn’t be taking it out on anyone else and it’s impossible even for him to ignore that he’s become irritable, snappish. He gets into more arguments with his flatmates - with Shownu of all people - within the first few days than over the last three years.

When a week passes, Wonho has become pretty much unbearable to the point where one night, Changkyun gets up all in his face, telling him to get his shit together and not take it out on others that Kihyun left. Their youngest boy is all blind fire and raw hurt, hands too weak to do anything but slap Wonho in his chest and he loves the kid, he really does but Wonho’s overwhelmed with the sudden need to put him in his place. 

He doesn’t, by some miracle.

“Don’t you fucking dare think you’re the only one hurting,” the kid snarls at him, alcohol brave and teen-years stupid, eyes glazed with soju and tears. “When you’re the one who drove him out, hyung.”

Wonho slams the door to the apartment as he storms out, the honorific more of a slur than anything he has ever heard in his life before. 

He drinks himself stupid in the nearest bar and doesn’t remember anything the next morning. Minhyuk’s giving him the death glare throughout the whole day, whenever he sees Wonho, so he probably did something stupid. 

Or someone.

Wonho’s not entirely sure at that point. It doesn’t matter. Whatever or whoever he did last night, it doesn’t ease the pain of Kihyun’s absence. 

—-

It’s about a little over those seven days since Kihyun walked out of their apartment when the stalemate is brought to an end. 

“So, you’re finally gonna do something about Kihyun pretty much abandoning us due to the fact that you’ve been acting like a little jealous bitch?” 

Hyungwon really needs to work in his opening lines, Wonho thinks as he exhales a particularly impressive cloud of smoke. His chest hurts and he’s pretty much sure it’s not caused by the uptick in the number of cigarettes he has smoked out. He chooses the most obvious way to react - and that is not to give Hyungwon any more recognition than a slow shrug. There’s always a chance the other will drop the subject (not that there is anything there to talk about) and leave Wonho alone.

Like he should. 

Sometimes he forgets how stubborn Hyungwon could be, though.

“Alright, to be fair,” Hyungwon says after a while, leaning onto the barrister next to him. He’s nursing a can of beer in his hands, the cheap kind that’s always stocked in the little fridge they all chipped in for months ago. Wonho sighs, it seems there’s no way from stopping Hyungwon from talking when he sets his mind to it, so he might just as well power on through whatever his friend wants to dish out. “We all kind of fucked up. We should have stepped in earlier or something, though we thought you two can work your way through your break up like adults. Stage an intervention for you two dumbasses or something.”

Wonho nods at first before the words register and he swears his brain comes to a screeching halt because wait a fucking minute, through a fucking  _ what _ now?

“The hell you’re on about?” Wonho almost chokes in response, the smoke thick and bitter in his mouth. “You’re talking about Kihyun and me?” 

The frown Hyungwon gives him is impressive. ”Don’t be stupid. Of course I am.” 

“We didn’t break up. There was nothing to break, Won,” Wonho snorts, flicks the cigarette butt into a puddle on the street below. God, the sheer idea is ridiculous and fucking painful. “You have to be in a relationship to actually break it up.”

If he didn’t know better, he would say the look Hyungwon is giving him upon hearing his words is half offended and half-disgusted. Not that it was anyone’s business that he and Kihyun had gotten their jollies together every now and then, but point still stands - Wonho’s fucking sure they were not in a relationship. 

They were painfully clear to what they were to each other before and after everything,- well, Kihyun couldn’t have made it any more clear that he didn’t really care all that much where he stuck his dick in as long as he got off on it. 

Wonho shakes his head lightly, to chase that thought away. 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Hyungwon says after a long long while and grabs Wonho by the ear, like he’s an unruly toddler and literally drags him inside, back to the messy apartment they all share. Once inside, he states loud and clear, “Wonho and Kihyun were not dating. Ever.”

Having it put out there so bluntly would hurt more than it should, but Wonho’s immediately distracted by the reaction those words cause. Changkyun jolts, the needle in his hand piercing Jooheon’s ear without any warning - the yelp he earns is high pitched and grates on Wonho’s ears. Minhyuk chokes on whatever vile concoction he has in his glass and spits it all over his lap, the smell of vodka immediately permeating the air. Shownu only gives Wonho the most disappointed look ever and Wonho’s filled with the need to profusely apologize all of the sudden.

Apologize for or what exactly, well, right now he’s not entirely sure. 

“The fuck you mean, you were not, hyung?” Jooheon groans, as Changkyun fusses around, cleaning out the newly pierced spot and holding an ice cube to the puncture hole. 

Did everyone in here smoke some bad stuff today and Wonho wasn’t aware of the fact? He sniffs at the air a little, but no, no trace of weed. 

“Have you all lost it?” He asks instead and Hyngwon finally releases his ear, the skin there burning, “The hell this ridiculous idea that Kihyun and I were dating come from? Oh. and not that it’s anyone’s fucking business, by the way.” 

Shownu stands up then, all liquid grace and perfectly slow movements and oh yeah,  _ now _ Wonho feels like properly bolting, because Shownu is the most caring person Wonho ever met underneath that bad boy facade, but now he’s looking at Wonho like he murdered all the puppies and kittens in the world.

And if there is someone who is able to hand Wonho’s ass to him, that’s Shownu. 

(It might have happened once or thrice when Wonho was particularly stupid during basic training in boot camp) 

“You broke up, a couple of weeks ago, didn’t you?” Instead of punching him, Shownu asks oh so gently and in all honesty, Wonho would probably prefer if he broke his nose, “That’s when it all started. This… rift, this falling out between you and him.”

“We broke  _ it off _ , not up,” he clarifies; or at least that’s what he thought he was doing because the confused looks aren’t disappearing from their faces, Minhyuk especially looks like he’s a second away from a stroke.“Come on guys, you can’t be serious. I appreciate the concern, but you all know me and Kihyun have just fucked around with each other for months. Why’d this suddenly that much of a big deal? And what was supposed to start and why?”

“You,ah,” Jooheon tries to speak and then takes a minute, shakes his head as if to clear his head, “I thought you guys were exclusive.”

Those words do something very unpleasant to his insides. Funnily enough, Wonho almost thought the same for a time; then he saw Kihyun in a bar they never went to, saw him all soft and cute with a girl straight out of a glossy magazine. He still remembers the way his stomach dropped at how  _ good _ , how natural they looked, Kihyun’s sharp angles pressed tight against all of her soft curves. He remembers the feeling of nausea at the way Kihyun leaned in, whispered something into the girl's ear and how she downright glowed, clearly delighted with whatever his words were. He remembers how he fled the bar, right there and then, leaving probably too much change on the counter and not looking back.

He remembers berating himself for breaking all the rules of their friends-with-benefits arrangements and casually calling it off the very next morning, when they woke up in their then-shared room. Kihyun merely gave him a small, tight smile and said that it’s cool; he still reeked of sweet, rich perfume when he passed Wonho’s bed on the way to grab a shower. 

“Oh holy fucking fuck, hyung, you didn’t…. but-but you’re in love with him!” Changkyun’s voice brings him back to the now and then and sure enough, their youngest is looking at him with wide eyes and open mouth. 

Wonho’s unable to catch his breath all of the sudden, unable to stop the violent shudder that goes through his body or the pitiful noise that escapes him because if there was one thing Wonho hid from everyone, from his brothers, from Kihyun,  _ from himself _ was the name of that stupid soft feeling inside of his heart. 

In that shameless, brave way of his Changkyun manages to pull out the one single truth that Wonho didn’t want - was too afraid - to acknowledge; he pulls it to the surface, lays it bare and ugly in the light for everyone to see.

Wonho twists his hands into the longer sleeves if his sweatshirt, pulls it harshly so it bites into his shoulders and tries to remember how the fuck to breathe.

There’s a hand on around his elbow, guiding him forward. Shownu is a steady presence at his side as he urges Wonho to sit down.

“Come on, Seokkie,” he says gently, his low voice and so warm, warm in a way Wonho’s not sure he deserves, and the sweet way he says Wonho’s real name cuts through the buzz in Wonho’s head. He moves his hand from Wonho’s shoulder to his knee, taps his fingers in a slow rhythm that Wonho can focus on. “How about you just tell us everything?” 

And so, Wonho does.

When he talks, he keeps his eyes on the floor; he fiddles with the sleeves, picks at the hem with his fingers, cracks every knuckle and picks at the cuticle of his left thumb until it stings. The rest of his friends are silent, they let him talk in stops and stutters, as he stumbles over his words and tries to say what has been going on for the last few past months. There are moments when his and Kihyun’s story becomes too much too fast, where his breath hitches almost painfully in his chest and that’s when Shownu squeezes his knee, fingers digging around the cap. The gesture helps, a physical reminder that Shownu is right there and the touch itself is grounding. 

Recalling that night in the bar, he tugs at his sleeves so hard he swears one of the seams gives and rips, and he says everything in one breath, takes a drink from whatever glass stands the closest and is unsure where the bitter taste comes from. 

When he’s finished, the silence is deafening. It’s heavy and it lies like a stone on his shoulders and Wonho would give anything to have someone even yell at him than for this quiet to continue, to stretch and stretch into what seemed to be a very unpleasant forever.

When someone finally does break it, Wonho manages to think that he should have known it would be Minhyuk to do so. 

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” Minhyuk hisses finally, slow and vicious and at any other time Wonho woud find it amusing, how unknowingly he chose the exact same phrase as Hyungwon did not so long ago. 

It’s not any other time, however.

When he looks up, he only sees something akin to fury on Minhyuk’s face, with the way his eyes are stormy, lips tightly pressed; there’s a definite tick to his jaw as he swallows loudly. 

“You,” Minhyuk starts, stops, and shakes his head before he reaches for his abandoned drink with unsteady hands and downs it in one go, “Fuck this. Fuck  _ you _ . I,-I can’t do this right now.” 

Before anyone else can react, Minhyuk walks out of the living room and slams the door to his and Hyungwon’s bedroom and the sound of it feels as if Wonho’s bones are about to rattle. They can all hear the key being turned and a loud thump. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” and that’s Hyungwon, seething words through clearly clenched teeth as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “The sheer amount of stupidity…”

“Hey…,-” Wonho protests, albeit weakly because judging by the reactions he and Kihyun have been pretty stupid. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t know about the girls, hyung,” Jooheon says, his eyes wide as saucers as he nervously pokes at his newest piercing. He’s going to make it bleed, Wonho thinks dumbly and wonders if he should say something but his mind is blank.

Changkyun gently reaches out and takes his hand, holds onto it to stop him from messing the piercing up, before he turns his wide eyes to Wonho, “Joo’s got a point, hyung, I mean… Kihyun hyung was hardly keeping it a secret.” 

Wonho blinks, not exactly certain what’s that supposed to mean but then Shownu nods and adds, “It’s been his source of income even before they moved in with us,” and Wonho’s stomach churns because  _ what the actual fuck _ , “He was really popular with them and often sought out.”

He feels about five seconds from throwing up because what the hell are they even saying…

“Oh for fuck’s sake, get out of your head, Wonho.” Hyungwon snaps his fingers right in front of Wonho’s eyes and that works pretty much as effectively as if he dumped a bucket of cold water on Wonho’s head, “Kihyun was their pretend boyfriend. He kept girls safe when they were out partying, not fucking them every chance he got.” 

Scratch that cold water bucket comparison he just made.

Hyungwon might as well have slammed Wonho face-first into the wall because Wonho swears his brain just came to a screeching halt. 

“He was their  _ what  _ now?” He turns to Shownu then, his one source of calm and rationality in all of this mess, “Did you know about this?”

Shownu gives him a look that’s part disbelief, part pity, and Wonho knows his answer even before Shownu opens his mouth. 

“Of course,” he says gently and that gentleness is like glass shards on Wonho’s skin, “I’ve seen him around, sometimes they hang out at our bar, even if they usually go to more classy places.” 

“The question is, how the fuck did you  _ not  _ know?” Hyungwon asks, lighting a cigarette and blowing up the first cloud of smoke in frustration, “Ever since he found you, you two were inseparable, you were literally living in each other’s fucking pocket! Wait, how did you call them, again?” He turns to Jooheon, who straightens immediately as if he was in class and got called out by a strict teacher.

“Attached at hip hyungs,” he supplies without missing a beat and turns his eyes to Wonho again, all wide and disbelieving, “Really hyung, how? You lived in one room!” 

Wonho shakes his head because he was given a lot of information to process in a very short time and he’s not exactly managing that. 

He also desperately tries to remember if Kihyun’s job ever came up in any sort of conversation they ever had, but he cannot be sure at this point, because there was  _ so much _ between them by now that memories blend and merge together and clearly Wonho should not be allowed to trust himself with them because he draws the most awful conclusions.

He understands the angry reactions pretty damn well now, though. 

“Oh wow hyung,” Changkyun sighs, runs a hand through his hair as he looks at Wonho with so much disbelief it's a miracle his eyebrows are still present on his face and not somewhere on the top of his head. “So, what are you gonna do now?” 

“I, uh,” he starts and stops, grabs the pack of cigarettes Hyungwon dropped onto the table and helps himself to one. He takes a long first inhale, feels his chest expand and slowly releases the smoke, trying to collect his absolutely scattered thoughts because  _ holy fucking shit _ . 

What the ever-loving fuck is he supposed to do??

“How are you not on your way to Goyang already is fucking beyond me,” Minhyuk’s voice reaches his ears and when he looks up there he is, leaning onto the doorframe. He still looks pissed and with all that’s been thrown at him, Wonho’s not all that surprised anymore. “You know, I thought Kihyun was fucking dumb as shit sometimes when it came to you, but you just topped every idiotic thing he ever did.”

Changkyun sits on the rest of the armchair, then, puts his own phone right in front of Wonho’s eyes, making him go cross-eyed for a second. 

“Subway and bus schedule, hyung.” He says and there’s a smile on his lips but it’s one that’s sharp enough Wonho feels like cutting himself on and it definitely does not reach his eyes. 

Well, Wonho thinks to himself as he nods, feeling oddly numb. He exhales smoke slowly.

Seems like he’s going to be visiting places from the past the next day. 

\---

It takes Wonho little less than an hour to travel to Goyang and to find the all too familiar house. It doesn’t seem to have changed much since the last time he saw it, with paint peeling off of the siding and brown-spotted windows. He looks at it and all of a sudden, it’s like time moved backward. 

For a moment he feels seventeen again, all gangly limbs and chest full of hot air, watching Kihyun storm out and slam the door behind him, his eyes ablaze and a swipe of red across his cheek. He feels seventeen, stupid, and scared, having wrapped his arm around Kihyun’s shaking boney shoulders as they walk away, Kihyun’s father’s yells fading behind them. 

But he’s not that age anymore and Kihyun isn't at his side; but his heart is hammering inside of his chest the same way it did back then, that terrified bird-like flutter against his ribs. He’s a little surprised by the intense reaction, by the sudden fear that gripped him the second he stepped off the bus. It gets worse the more he lingers around the porch for what seems to be hours to no end, not sure how to start, who will open the door, what will happen when it will be Kihyun.

What will happen when it  _ won’t _ be Kihyun. 

Kihyun didn’t part on the best of terms with his family and way back then, a shit-ton of issues between them and Wonho knows he’s only been a small part of those. Kihyun carried a lot on his shoulders, bore the brunt of his family’s conservative, rigoristic tendencies - there was a lot going on behind closed doors and even today Wonho’s sure he doesn’t know everything. Kihyun’s always been rather tight-lipped about it, sharing only bits here and there when alcohol loosened his tongue and with Wonho only, who never pressed for more. Even with how little he knew, he knew enough. 

And so, the fact that he willingly went back to his home, that he left just makes something inside of Wonho twist painfully and bleed.

Right now, he’s been standing in front of the Yoo family house for fuck knows how long, watching the door as if it holds all the answers to all the questions of the universe and wondering if he’s even able to fix this if he’s able to get his best friend back. 

He’s done some really stupid shit in his life but this - this driving Kihyun away because he was too fucking proud and blind - Wonho thinks as he swallows thickly, is probably the stupidest thing he’s ever done. 

He toes at the ground mindlessly, trying to gather his wits when all of the choices are taken out of his hand and the door opens. His heart thumps painfully at first before details register and Wonho realizes that the man who opened is not Kihyun, but, in fact, his brother. 

They have the same scowl, even if Kihyun’s brother’s is … uglier.

Wonho desperately tries to remember the name, he’s sure Kihyun had to mention it at least once, but nothing comes to his mind. The older one of the Yoo siblings is giving him a look as if he’s just brought in a basket full of cockroaches, however, so Wonho’s certain that lack of social graces won’t be any sort of an issue. 

Wonho himself is clearly enough of an issue to make it as enjoyable as having one’s teeth pulled.

“I need to talk to Kihyun,” he says after a long while instead of a greeting and almost wishes he had been chewing gum so he could pop it now, to complete the whole disrespectful image he has. 

To his astonishment, the scowl deepens. It almost seemed impossible. 

“I need you off my porch and yet you’ve been here for over an hour,” Kihyun’s brother replies, arms crossed over his chest as if Wonho could ever be intimidated by someone in slippers and a worn-out robe, “Funny how life works.”

For all the bad blood between them, Wonho can see the similarities between Kihyun and his older brother. There’s that same tick of jaw, the same stubborn set to the chin. When it’s Kihyun, it’s kinda hot. On this guy, it makes Wonho want to spit in his face.

“The sooner you let me talk to him, the sooner I’ll be gone,” Wonho says impatiently because this is getting ridiculous; he actually has been there for an hour, knocking at the door every few minutes before Kihyun’s-what’s-his-name-brother decided to open. And decided to be as much of a dickhead as possible. “It’s not like you want him around, anyway.” 

There’s a snarl on the older man’s face and oh yeah, that’s a Yoo trait surely, Wonho’s seen that look on Kihyun’s face whenever he was a second from throwing punches. Right now he sees the way unfamiliar hands curl into fists where they’re crossed, knuckles stretched white and for a second Wonho manages to feel a thrill, that maybe Kihyun’s brother is stupid enough to try him on before there’s a noise from the inside, a  _ tap-tap-tap _ of feet and…

“Let me handle this,” Kihyun steps out, slinks past his brother without actually touching him. He doesn’t give him even one look, but then again he doesn’t receive one in return as well. “Go back inside.”

His brother says something to that, low and unpleasant, but Wonho’s lost all interest, all of his attention zeroing in on Kihyun instead and for the first time in over a week Wonho feels like he can finally breathe. He didn’t realize he missed Kihyun this much, to the point it makes his knees weak. Kihyun looks so different too, in some worn-out sweats and not the usual leathers, bare feet peeking from underneath the pants’ legs, hair left untouched, soft tresses falling into his eyes. The sweater he’s wearing is black, too large on his frame, baggy around his shoulders and arms.

He looks… frail in a way Kihyun never is.

And just like that, Wonho’s able only to keep on looking, mind blank as Kihyun waits for a bit, closes the door quietly, then turns to face Wonho, his eyes dark and unreadable and the elation Wonho felt just a second ago dissolves into something else entirely.

Because Kihyun’s not looking him straight in the eye, Wonho realizes with a fell swoop to his stomach. No, he’s looking more to the direction of his ear or something invisible hovering about his shoulder as he finally speaks, carefully forming words that fall off his tongue, “I would appreciate it if you stopped pestering my family.” 

“I…” Wonho struggles to find his words for a second because he can feel the mad beat of his heart in his fucking  _ throat _ all of the sudden. He licks his dry lips , feels the cool metal of the piercing against his tongue, its taste sharp and familiar and grounding. “I just need to talk to you.” 

That seems to be enough to have Kihyun finally look at him, really look at him - meet Wonho’s eyes and all. But when it happens, Wonho almost wishes he didn’t.

Kihyun’s eyes are sharp, cold, reminiscent of broken glass pieces than anything. 

“I fail to see why, right now,” the way Kihyun carefully chooses his words, the way he slowly straightens his back, squares his shoulders makes Wonho feel an icy chill crawl down his spine, “I should give a single damn fuck about what  _ you _ need.” 

It would be a lie to say he never saw that particular hard glint in Kihyun’s eyes - he’s all too familiar with it, actually, seen it way too often during all those years they’ve been friends. It was never directed at him, however, always at someone looking for trouble, always at someone stirring up shit. After all, while Kihyun was probably the most responsible of them all right after Shownu, he came with a lot of fury packed into his deceivingly lean, lithe body. 

“Did you know they thought we were together?” Wonho runs a hand through his hair and he knows he’s stalling, but Kihyun looks like he’s about to turn around and leave any second now, complete with slamming the door in Wonho’s face. 

His attempt fails however and there’s only annoyance tugging at Kihyun’s lip, twisting his mouth into a grimace, “Do I look like I give a damn right now about who thinks what about what we did?” 

Wonho’s tempted to say that yeah, he actually does look like that because if Kihyun didn’t, he’d be still living with them in the crappy apartment and not in a place that brought only unhappiness and misery for years. He stays quiet though because he might have been stupid but he’s not about to make that mistake again. 

“And since we’re done here,” Kihyun bites out and turns towards the door again, “I think you can find your back way home perfectly fine on your own.”

“No, Kihyun, come on, wait!” Wonho takes a few steps forward, despite probably risking a punch in the face cause Kihyun looks calm, but Wonho  _ knows _ him, he knows when Kihyun’s pissed off enough to sack him one. “We need to talk about this! You can’t just fucking run away from… Look, no one’s sure what the fuck happened with us and the guys are pissed, like really pissed, Minhyuk almost tore my head off and they made me come here and I just need you…”

He knows it’s the worst thing to say the second the words leave his mouth and Kihyun turns to him so violently he can hear the air  _ whoosh _ around him.

“Do I have to fucking spell it out for you?” Kihyun snarls and then he’s right there in Wonho’s face, eyes as bright as if someone has set the whole neighbourhood to fire. He has a fist at the collar of Wonho’s t-shirt, curled tight enough that Wonho can feel how badly he’s shaking, “I don’t care what you need. I’m fucking done, Hoseok.” Wonho’s breath hitches at the name and Kihyun releases him as abruptly as he grabbed him, causing Wonho to take a stumbling step back, “So do me a solid for once in your life and get the fuck out of here.”

Wonho shakes his head, plants his feet into the ground as he makes himself look much braver than he actually feels. “No. No, I”m not going anywhere until you talk to me.”

“Well, you can fucking rot here for all I care,” with that spat out like vitriol, Kihyun marches back up to the house, opens the door and doesn’t even throw him one last look. He closes the door without any hesitation and the flare in Wonho’s chest is nothing like he ever experienced, not even that time some asshole got a jump on him and slammed a metal bar across his chest. 

He hears the click of the lock the next second and something within him withers. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself, fishing out a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of the jacket’s pocket. Well, that, that didn’t go exactly as he had hoped for; not that he’s certain what was it that he hoped for, but Wonho counted on a little more cooperation definitely. 

Still. He meant what he said, that he wasn’t going anywhere. He knows Kihyun can be stubborn as a mule but then again, so is Wonho. It’s just a question who breaks first, really, and Kihyun has that natural parental streak towards everyone in their rag-tag group that demands of him to make sure everyone is safe and shit like that. And that is what might give Wonho the upper hand this time. 

Even if he doesn’t want to talk to him right now, Wonho knows that if he stays long enough, Kihyun will check on him sooner or later.

With that in mind, he checks his phone, sees the onslaught of messages in the group chat, most from Hyungwon asking if he already fixed the shit he caused. His battery is way over half full, but considering the circumstances, it might be best to save it as much as possible, so he just mutes the group. He doesn’t feel like dealing with the whole lot of them, the feeling of utter failure curling tight and unpleasant in the pit of his stomach. 

He makes a quick trip to a nearby convenience store, buys some water and snacks to get him through the day before he’s back at that porch, finding himself a semi-comfortable spot. 

He just has to wait long enough, Wonho reassures himself, for Kihyun to check on him. 

He can do it. He can wait however long it takes.

And this way at least, he has time to plan things out, not to come out as a stuttering idiot in front of his crush - even if, practically, that’s what’s going on here - and tell Kihyun what he means and what happened. 

He’s not really counting on a fairy tale ending here, Wonho sighs to himself, feeling the wooden planks catch at his jeans, but he hopes to have his friend back. 

Maybe.

Somehow. 

If he’s lucky. 

It’s late in the evening and Wonho’s almost asleep, curled in on himself when he hears raised voices coming from the inside. He rouses immediately and scrambles up and away from the doorstop, feeling his legs tingle unpleasantly after hours of sitting in one position.

The door opens and Wonho squints against the bright light from the inside, blinks to adjust his vision. 

“... see if I ever take you back!” 

“See if I fucking care!” Kihyun yells as he leaves the house and then slams the door hard enough for it to rattle in the frame. 

Wonho takes a step back in surprise, takes Kihyun’s appearance - the tight clench of his jaw and the dark red splotches of anger on his cheeks - and for a second he comes up blank to what he should say. Of-fucking-course he’s unable to find words. He actually managed to come up with so many good things to tell Kihyun but all of the sudden, he’s unable to remember even one as Kihyun gives him a long look, then snorts and pushes past, shoulder-checking him in the rush to get away from his family house and Wonho both. 

“Fucking hell, Kihyun, wait!” He hurries behind, managing to catch up with him in just a few longer strides. He grabs at his shoulder and Kihyun immediately turns around, so abruptly Wonho almost crashes into him. 

His bag falls onto the sidewalk but Kihyun merely jerks himself away from underneath’s Wonho’s hand.

“I told you to leave me alone,” Kihyun snaps at him. He looks pissed beyond measure but at least he’s responding and maybe that’s actually Wonho’s chance to talk to him. That or getting a punch in the face, both have equally high chances of happening right now if Wonho’s reading Kihyun right. “Just how many houses you’re planning on driving me out of, huh?”

Ok, so. Higher chances for the punching to happen.

But honesty’s always been the way to go, Wonho thinks so he swallows thickly and pushes on, “I don’t want to drive you out of anywhere Ki,” he says quietly, heart lodged tight in his throat, ”I just want you to come back home.” 

Kihyun’s chest rises and falls abruptly, and that angry red flush isn’t going anywhere; his eyes seem to be made of glass, clear and sharp.

Anger was always a beautiful look on Kihyun, Wonho knew that, but he never realized that he would experience it first-hand like this. 

But,- there’s also the tiniest tremble to his chin when Kihyun looks Wonho straight in the eye, opens his mouth, and crashes Wonho’s world once again with a quiet statement of, “Hoseok… you  _ were _ my home.”

He might as well have kicked him in the face or something, Wonho thinks because his chest burns and he feels lightheaded and unable to react, because how do you… what do you say when there’s so much resignation and definite end in five words only. 

Kihyun looks at him for a second or two longer, before he sighs and picks up his bag. He starts walking again, and that breaks Wonho’s stupor, sending him moving. 

“I fucked up,” Wonho blurts out because this pretty much may be the last chance he actually has to talk with Kihyun, the last chance he has to do anything about this. “I fucked up and should have done things differently, and I’m so fucking sorry for it but I thought I was going to lose my best friend so I kept quiet.”

This does get Kihyun’s attention because he stops right there in the middle of the sidewalk and raises one hand to his face. Wonho walks around him cautiously - Kihyun’s pinching the bridge of his nose, that funny little scrunch perfectly visible even in the fast-falling dark and his eyes are tightly shut. He’s breathing heavily through his nose and Wonho waits, patiently and hopes there might be anything of their friendship to salvage after this.

After what seems like forever, Kihyun hisses a breath out, long and loud, through his teeth and it makes it sound like a train letting off steam. When he opens his eyes, they’re narrowed and dark.

“In what sort of piss drunk haze were you in when you thought that giving me shit for no fucking reason isn’t going to cost you your supposed best friend, Wonho? Hell yeah, hotshot, you fucked up alright, the second you decided to make me your punching bag when you were the one to...” 

Wonho swallows thickly because he knows what Kihyun's about to say and that’s not it, that’s not it at all. “Not then. I mean that too, yes, but I meant earlier. I fucked up way earlier. When, when you,- when we still…,” the words seem to swell up in his throat, and oh wow, that’s a new kind of pathetic. Not to be able to put into words the fact they’ve been sleeping with each other for literal months.

“When we what?” Kihyun frowns and by all means it shouldn’t be this attractive of a look on him, with puffed out cheeks and pursed lips. It is, though. “Still talked?”

“Slept together.”

Something passes over Kihyun’s face then, to fast for Wonho to decipher what it was - whether a flicker of light or maybe a passing shadow; but it was there for a split of a second and once it’s gone, Kihyun’s face is back to an impressive, resting bitch face. 

Wonho sighs, runs a hand through his hair. They’re a goddamn cliche, standing in the middle of a sidewalk, Kihyun with his bag over his shoulder and Wonho trying to spill his guts. The late hour causes the street to be near abandoned and the lamps give enough of a shitty light for it all to be a damn moody setting. The only thing that’s missing is the rain, it should be pouring down so that Wonho could cry the way he feels like doing. His eyes do sting as Kihyun watches him struggle for words and ...

The shrill ringtone breaks it all. Kihyun seems equally startled for a second and mutters something under his nose before he fishes out his phone from the back pocket of his worn-out jeans. Wonho can’t see the name from the angle Kihyun’s holding the phone, but he’s clearly hesitating for a second, before swiping his thumb across the screen and collecting the call. He toes the ground as he mutters a hello and listens to whoever is on the other side. 

“Yeah,” Kihyun sighs after a moment, eyes flickering to Wonho’s face for a moment, “Yeah, I just need to deal with,- with something that came up,” well shit, that one stings, Wonho winces, “Will be there in ten or so. Thanks for this again, I’ll see you soon.” Kihyun sighs as he finishes his call and he seems so tired all of the sudden, with the slump to his shoulders and the tight pinch to the corners of his eyes as he raises them back to Wonho’s again. “We’re done here.”

“Kihyun…” 

“Stop. Just, stop.” He runs his hand through his hair, makes the strands all messed up and for a second it makes Wonho distracted, makes him wonder why did he grew them out in the first place, they’re clearly bothering him and then he refocuses on what Kihyun’s saying, “... you did that. And that’s fine, it was nothing after all so just stop this-, this fucking  _ pretense _ that it meant anything and…”

“But it did. It was everything. It meant everything, ” Wonho interrupts and takes a step forward, heart hammering in his chest, “It… it still means as much. Perhaps, perhaps even more if possible.”

Kihyun looks pretty much as if Wonho just punched him, breathing heavily through his open mouth, eyes wide and disbelieving. His bag is on the ground again, having fallen out of a suddenly limp hand and Wonho doesn't dare to move, to breathe too loud. 

Doesn’t dare to break whatever’s happening right now. 

When Kihyun finally speaks, his voice is rough, raspy as if it pains him to force words to come out of his throat, “The hell’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?” 

“I’m sorry, Kihyun, I’m so, so sorry,” Wonho says and fuck does he mean it, because he can get over being brokenhearted and an idiot, but losing his best friend forever due to the fact that he  _ is _ an idiot is something he is sure he can’t live through, because he’s already felt like tried to rip his own heart out during Kihyun’s absence, “I just saw you with that girl and you… I got so weird and jealous and I broke it off the next day, and you just,- You were ok with it, so fucking cool about it and I was not, not with all those other girls as well, even if I had no right to…”

“Shut the fuck up right now,” Kihyun snaps at him, that thinly veiled weariness gone in an instant. His eyes are bewildered, as he shakes his head, “Don’t you… I don’t want to hear this.”

“Kihyun, just…” Wonho tries again, close to pleading, his heart setting a terrifying pace on his chest. “Please.” 

“No. No.” Kihyun picks up his bag and shakes his head furiously, takes a step back. There’s a shine to his eyes and Wonho’s thrown back to all those years ago, to a construction site and bloody skin and a very angry, very hurt boy. “No, Wonho. I don’t, - you know what? Fuck what you want and need or fucking whatever. You promised me… No. Fuck you, you don’t get to,- don’t get to say this, not now. You have no fucking right, to come here and tell me all of this.”

Wonho just stares for a minute, his breathing all sorts of fucked up - his chest is burning, feels so tight - and he opens his mouth to say something, anything, fuck he’s not above begging for a chance to at least explain, but Kihyun… 

Kihyun makes it all impossible with a shockingly innocent gesture of swiping at his eyes and a pitiful sniffle that cuts Wonho to the quick. 

“Just… leave me the hell alone, Hoseok.” He says instead of a goodbye and walks away.

Wonho doesn’t stop him. He simply stands there, just watching as Kihyun hurries down the street with his head down and shoulders hunched, under the weight of Wonho’s gaze and the shitty world, as he passes the ruined building that has not yet been taken down; watches helplessly as Kihyun turns the next corner and disappears from his sight.

This time, Wonho lets Kihyun walk away and doesn’t even try anymore.

\---

“How could you fuck this up so badly?” Minhyuk sneers from somewhere above him and Wonho barely hears him anyway, as he pukes the pitiful contents of his stomach into the toilet. 

He doesn’t even have the excuse of cheap alcohol this time; he just got home and tried to explain what happened to his concerned and angry friends - all of those emotions displayed in various degrees, depending on which friend he looked at - before his stomach revolted and knocked against his teeth. He barely made it to the bathroom, where he retched up until the moment he’s in now. His knees pulse painfully from where he hit the floor in his previous mad dash, his arms shaking where they’re wrapped around the porcelain. His cheeks are tear-stained, throat burning. 

“I don’t think he needs that right now, hyung,” Jooheon says, voice tight with worry and Wonho feels even worse, he shouldn’t add to the kid’s stress like that, but then another wave of nausea hits him and he dry-heaves. 

“So,” this time it’s Hyungwon, from somewhere further from the flat. He almost sounds concerned, definitely a little bit unsettled. “Any chance someone knows how to make that drink Kihyun made whenever we got sick…?” 

Wonho wants to laugh, really wants to laugh, but all that escapes him is another dry heave and a sob and then there’s Changkyun at his side, rubbing small circles over his back. For all the anger Changkyun held at and against Wonho - he’s the closest to him now, not minding the stench and mess he is. He wipes at Wonho’s mouth with a damp, warm rag - wipes the spit, snot and vomit away in a gentle manner. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasps, closing his eyes as they burn with fresh tears and he doesn’t really know who he’s apologizing to; his friends or an absent Kihyun, who he can still feel all around him in the kindness of Changyun’s gesture and the way he can hear Shownu putter around in the kitchen.

He rests his head against Changkyun’s boney shoulder, feeling the tremors run through his body. 

The kid sighs, pets his head almost clumsily, “We’ll get through this, hyung.” He whispers against Wonho’s sweat-damp temple, “We’re family.”

Wonho wishes he could believe him, but he hears  _ just leave me the hell alone _ and sees Kihyun’s glass-shattered eyes and slumped shoulders and all he believes in is an end. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO, SO sorry (シ_ _)シ
> 
> yelling to be directed to the bird app @ [ alielle ](https://twitter.com/alielle)


	7. Chapter 7

Kihyun wakes with a start, with the taste of a dead animal in his mouth and a Yoongi hovering above him. He’s still in his jeans and a hoodie, it’s fucking uncomfortable - he’s too hot and sweaty and everything  _ hurts _ . The curtains are pulled tight to keep most of the day’s light out, but he can still feel his eyes pulse unpleasantly. Every tired beat of his heart seems to resonate painfully through his bones, reverberate through his head. 

He feels like crying, dying, and puking all over himself all at the same time.

Which would be pretty much what he did for the last 3 days straight. 

“You alive?” Yoongi’s brows furrow in concern, as he kneels next to where Kihyun is lying curled into a tight, miserable ball. He reaches out and pushes sweat-damp hair away from Kihyun’s face. “Or at least sort of?”

“Sort of,” Kihyun croaks and winces, the words downright burning their way through his throat. Yoongi hands him a traveller’s mug; it smells sweet.

Ah. Hot honey water. 

His stomach still seems to rattle against his teeth as he takes a few careful sips. With all the alcohol he consumed and threw up, everything tastes acidic and foul, but the hot drink soothes his throat a little. 

His head keeps pounding, a pulsing sort of pain in the rhythm of his exhausted heartbeat.

Kihyun closes his eyes, curls in on himself more.

“You need a shower,” Yoongi says after a while because while he’s a solid friend, he’s also an asshole who doesn’t clearly see Kihyun just wants to be left alone and pretend he doesn’t exist.

Maybe he needs to try and drink his weight in alcohol again, even if the sheer thought makes him taste acidic bile at the back of his throat. 

“I need a drink,” he still mumbles and Yoongi clucks his tongue, pokes the side of his head and Kihyun whimpers as the pain is a white-hot zing that shoots through his everything. “Fuck off.”

“No. You had three days to throw your little pity party.”

“Yoongi…” Kihyun tries because he doesn't want to sober up, he doesn't want to deal with everything that will crash into him once the fumes of alcohol leave his mind. 

He just wants to stay curled into this damned little ball he has made himself into, him and his pitiful misery.

“Nope,” Yoongi pokes at his side this time, fingers digging into Kihyun’s ribs, “I’m not letting you do this. We’re getting you clean of this… well, all of this and then getting some food into you.”

Even imagining food causes his stomach to tighten painfully and nausea to wash over him. He mutters so, trying to somehow squirm away from Yoongi’s goddamn fingers, wiping at his hands uselessly. 

“No, Kihyun,” Yoongi says firmly after a while and he does the unforgivable - stands up and goes to pull the curtains aside, letting the bright sunlight in.Kihyun downright  _ whimpers _ because fuck, the sun rays seem to be piercing right through his brain. “No, you’re getting back on your feet. I get it that you’re hurt, believe me I so fucking do, but you ain’t getting anywhere near alcohol for now. Enough’s enough.” Yoongi kneels next to him, reaching out, his hand a heavy, warm weight over Kihyun’s shoulder. “I’m not letting you do this to yourself anymore, Kiki.”

It’s pretty much the use of years-long-gone nickname that makes Kihyun’s stubborn ass finally give in. There’s a certain way Yoongi says it and it makes  _ Kiki  _ resonate within him; it makes him feel all thirteen and aching, blood in his mouth from the impact against a wall and he hears laughter, mocking, then the hissed, high-pitched “get the fuck away from him” when he blinks to see a young, round-faced Yoongi hoovering above him, blazing eyes and a scrape over his cheek.

Kihyun shakes his head and the memory fades, but Yoongi doesn’t. 

“Ok,” he says quietly, so quietly in fact that Yoongi doesn’t register it at first cause he continues shaking him lightly, making Kihyun feel like his brain is rattling inside of his head and his stomach is gradually, dangerously crawling up to his throat. “I said ok, lay off dammit.” 

“Good. I’ve already left you some clothes on the hamper.” Yoongi crinkles his nose funnily as he takes an over-exaggerated sniff, “Just so you know, I’m burning those.”

Valid, Kihyun thinks as he takes Yoongi’s hand, because if he’s honest, he can smell the stench of himself. Yoongi helps him and slowly, so very slowly, Kihyun finally stands up. 

The world seems to be slightly off, not spinning just yet, but definitely off it’s axis and seems to be strangely floaty around him. 

Yoongi herds him to the bathroom - one he’s quite familiar with by now, especially that little spot by the toilet, where the floor by some miracle does not bear the imprints of Kihyun’s knees - and Kihyun catches his reflection in the mirror.

He cringes and cringes hard. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi laughs and pats his shoulder, “Told ya you look like absolute shit.” 

Understatement of the fucking century if someone was to ask Kihyun. He’s far from Hyungwon’s level of vain but he knows he’s good looking. 

Or was, like three to four days ago. 

“Toothbrush is there along with the toothpaste,” Yoongi continues as if Kihyun does not look like absolute roadkill and jesus fucking christ what is that even at the corner of his mouth, “I got you your own, I didn’t find one in your bag.”

He might have left it in his haste when he was leaving his family house. He wasn’t in the best shape back then, feeling as if Wonho just pulled the rug from underneath his feet and also hit him with a baseball bat in the same go. 

“Yeah, thanks.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair; it’s greasy, clumps of it falling into his eyes. 

“That… we’ll handle some other day.” Yoongi scrunches up his nose as he eyes the disastrous state of Kihyun’s hair, “I’ll go reheat the food, but please, take your time.” 

The jab makes his mouth twitch and even if he’s feeling all kinds of exhausted, Kihyun still throws the hoodie in his face.

He spends something akin to an eternity under the shower, literally scrubbing himself raw to the point where his skin was lobster-red and stinging. 

It feels like a ton has been washed off of him, spiralling around his feet down the drain and while Kihyun definitely still feels miserable, he doesn’t exactly feel like he’s about to keel over any second. 

The clothes Yoongi gave him are definitely not Kihyun’s; but the size is similar and they’re soft, despite not being worn out like most of Kihyun’s comfort clothes are. It feels strangely comforting however, the soft cotton against his water-flushed skin. 

When he trudges into the living room, there’s a steaming bowl waiting for him, Yoongi mindlessly flipping through the channels on the tv. 

The bukeoguk is  _ divine _ . 

The flavors bust on his tongue after the first spoonful and the broth is like a hot, soothing balm against his throat. It pools in his stomach and it seems to warm him up from the inside. Yoongi isn’t crazy and stubborn enough to give him too much, just enough so that Kihyun manages to take a few sips carefully. 

It burns in the best way, seems to turn the marrow in his bones into liquid fire and chases away the remains of the drunken haze of the past three days. The bowl is almost unpleasantly warm as well, almost too hot to hold, but Kihyun curling his fingers around it more, inhales the smell of the soup even if he’s not going to eat too much of it anymore. 

“Well at least you look more like half-dead than completely dead.”

He snorts into the fragrant aroma, raising his eyes up to look at Yoongi. 

“Sorta feel that way as well,” Kihyun admits and puts the bowl away, “More alive than dead as well.” 

“Oh I wouldn’t say you’re anywhere close to looking alive, but we’ll get you there.” 

Kihyun snorts under his nose; seems all his friends have that asshole trait he’s clearly attracted to. Maybe except Shownu, but Shownu was Wonho’s friend first, so it doesn’t really count in Kihyun’s head. And Jooheon, because he’s a precious bumblebee underneath his “tougher than nails” exterior. 

The rest are grade A assholes with their softer moments (he misses them like he’d miss air) and Yoongi is clearly included.

And speaking of, Yoongi clears his throat to catch Kihyun’s already scattering attention. For the first time since he stumbled back into Yoongi’s tiny flat and life, Kihyun takes a good long look at him. He looks good, Kihyun thinks to himself, really good. Last time they actually saw each other - and wow, was it really when he lived together with Minhyuk and Hyungwon - Yoongi had honest to god hair extensions, hair dyed in an odd gold blonde and wore grey lenses. He looked as wild as Kihyun remembered him to be.

Now his hair is neatly cut and back to black. He looks, - for the lack of better word - fresh, but the biggest change in Yoongi is that the slight discoloration on the top of one cheek is visible. Kihyun remembers that scar; how Yoongi’s been slammed face first into a metal locker in school, the broken lock catching at the skin and tearing it. 

He used to cover it up, Kihyun remembers, with concealers and cheap make up. Seems not to be the case anymore, because it’s pretty late in the afternoon and Yoongi clearly was out and about doing his own thing considering the nice clothes he’s wearing, before he decided to rouse Kihyun’s sorry ass.

“You look good,” he rasps and takes a sip of broth only, because he likes the feeling of how it seems to light him up from inside, “Like you got your shit together.” 

Yoongi scrunches up his nose, holding off a smile, “Thanks, I guess. I thought you had yours as well.” 

Yeah, Kihyun thinks back to the small flat, to Minhyuk and Hyungwon and their weird kind of homey, to quiet breakfasts and the clogging up shower. He thinks back to Shownu’s crinkly eyes and to his embarrassed smile that appeared everytime Jooheon would beg him to dance; to Changkyun’s sharp profile and soft proud smile when he aced his exams. 

He thinks back to Wonho, just Wonho, and really, Kihyun too thought he had his shit together. 

\---

Wonho would be the world’s biggest liar if he was to say that things are back to semi-normal in their household. Kihyun’s absence is like an ever festering, bleeding wound - it’s not just the sheer lack of his presence, but the lack of sound of Kihyun puttering around, always the first one up in the mornings.

It’s in the empty space at the table when they eat breakfast or dinner, it’s in that one stupid Ryan mug with a chipped handle - Minhyuk’s birthday gift for their first time they celebrated it together, apparently - that Kihyun always made his coffee in and now it never seems to make its way out of the cupboard. 

It’s in how Jooheon and Changkyun stop hanging around every single day; their visits become more scarce, as they tend to hang out in parks and wherever their legs take them. (They still come around and for that Wonho will be forever grateful because they bring some life back to the apartment, no matter how muted and bleak it seems to be now.) 

It's in the empty bed above Wonho and the way their room smells just like Wonho’s cologne now. 

He’s reminded of Kihyun’s absence almost every single moment of every day; and even if by some miracle he manages to forget, Minhyuk and Hyungwon are always more than eager to remind him what he’s lost. In a way, the constant needling is a thing Wonho considers good, like a reassurance that even if he’s not here, Kihyun still has people in his corner.

Bad thing is, however, Wonho’s pretty sure he’s beginning to reach his own level of patience. He knows he fucked up, but there is a limit to how many times he can have his mistakes thrown in his face without blowing up one way or another. 

Or breaking, maybe. He’s not sure at this point. 

“Tastes funny,” Shownu mumbles one day at dinner, his brows furrowed, “Don’t you think so?”

While their breakfasts were always quiet, due to everyone being half-conscious, dinners were always lively and fun, more often than not accompanied by drinks late into the night. Now, dinners are a solemn event, all four of them sitting mostly in silence, moving their food around and dispersing into their rooms as soon as the meal is over .

And Shownu is right too. The food does taste funny. Wonho knows it’s been prepared properly, everything cooked as it was supposed to be done, but it just doesn’t taste  _ right _ . 

“I followed the recipe, step by step,” Minhyuk sighs, playing with the meat on his plate. Kihyun didn’t pack his self-written down cookbook when he left and with how much in the open it was left in the kitchen, only an idiot would think it was not left there on purpose. And Minhyuk’s been trying, he really was but right then he just sighs again, “No matter what, it’s like it always tasted better when Kihyun did it.”

“I know what you mean. It’s almost as if we could feel his care and love when he cooked for us,” Hyungwon says gently as he gives Minhyuk’s hand a little squeeze,but his eyes are cold when they find Wonho’s across the table and the food in Wonho’s mouth suddenly tastes vile. “It’s not your fault, Min.”

Of course it’s not Minhyuk’s fault.

Wonho swallows the bite he has in his mouth, forces it through his throat and stands up, “Thank you for the meal, Minhyuk”. Without looking at anyone, he takes his plate and bowl to the kitchen; disposes of the leftovers, cleans up after himself. 

(He swears he can still hear the echo of Kihyun bitching at them every time they left food after dinner for it to dry and stick to the plates).

Unlike usual, however, he doesn’t barricade himself in the room to listen to the sounds that are no longer there. This time, feeling the weight of gazes on his back, he slips on his jacket and shoes and goes for a long walk, not really paying attention to where he’s going, wandering the streets aimlessly, lost in the noise of the city and that of his own thoughts. He doesn’t feel like drinking, or finding any sort of company for the eve. Those particular ways of coping lost their allure the first time he tried it, leaving him feeling empty inside and dirty outside. 

He finally ends up in one of the smaller parks; it’s nearly empty and he finds a bench where he sits down, legs outstretched as he looks up at the polluted sky. It will be sunset soon, Wonho thinks. His phone is a heavy weight in his pocket as Wonho thinks about typing out a text message. Despite being told to leave him alone, Wonho tried calling Kihyun so many times over the last two weeks. With constantly being directed to voicemail every single time, it’s not hard to get what point Kihyun is making. And that’s one where he’s not about to pick up anytime soon. 

Well. Not going to pick up a call from Wonho, at least. Wonho knows Hyungwon is in constant contact with Kihyun, he overheard the younger boy one time. And where’s Hyungwon, there’s Minhyuk. And if  _ they _ can’t convince Kihyun to come back home… 

Wonho still writes him messages. Every day, one in the morning and one late in the evening. When he wakes up and there is no creak of boards, no sound of Kihyun’s feet on their cheap floors, no smell of coffee wafting through the flat and slowly drawing them out - he writes. When he goes to sleep, there is no tossing and turning above his head, no sleepy snuffles and quiet snoring - he writes again and hopes against hope. 

It’s always the same message -  _ I’m sorry, Kihyun. I’m so sorry. You don’t have to talk to me but please, please come back home _ . 

There is, of course, much more Wonho would like to say but not over text. Not in a series of characters that won’t convey his tone. Not when Kihyun can’t see him, look in his eyes and see his sincerity. But it doesn’t matter if Wonho’s scarce in his words or not. It doesn’t matter if he sends one more message or not. The result is always the same.

They all remain  _ unread.  _

Wonho takes a deep, shaking breath as he pulls out his phone. It’s way earlier than he’d usually write to Kihyun, but what does it matter at this point. His eyes burn as he types, slowly, letter after letter. When he hits “send” it feels definite and he feels like curling in on himself and crying. 

_ I’m sorry _ , his text reads, _ I’ll leave you alone now. _

\---

“You know, I have to admit that when Yoongi told me all the stories about you, I imagined you very differently.” 

Kihyun nods mindlessly from where he’s sitting on a tiny sofa, not really seeing the flickering TV in front of his eyes. He feels like he’s been curled into this particular corner for months now, trying to make himself small and unobtrusive and to take up as little space as possible, legs cramping and chest aching.

It hasn’t been months of course, a little over a week only. 

Aside from those horrible first three days he doesn’t remember, Kihyun hasn’t been particularly social with either of them, mulling over everything that has happened in his head and in silence. He felt like he took every piece of him, looked at it from new angles and put it away, trying to decide how to rearrange and rebuild himself.

But today, Yoongi’s out for the whole night, out of the tiny apartment he rents out with his boyfriend and Kihyun’s mind is buzzing with the last message that popped up on his phone and he is also left in the flat with Hobi. 

Hobi -  _ Hoseok _ , his real name is and god, the way it fucks with Kihyun’s battered heart on a daily basis is incredible - who is Yoongi’s boyfriend, but alo pretty much sunshine and kindness personified and Kihyun doesn’t really know how to deal with him. The feeling seemed to have been rather mutual, Hobi giving him a wide berth this whole time but Kihyun also suspects Yoongi simply told him to keep away, because it seems like Hobi lives for the company of others, and right now Kihyun is the  _ only _ company and Hobi’s already there.

The seat next to him dips a little as Hobi sits down. Kihyun can feel the other’s gaze at him so he swallows through his parched throat and forces himself to speak. 

“Different how?” He croaks out, cringes at the absolute rusted mess that is his voice and makes himself look up. 

Hobi’s staring at him with a slight frown, but his eyes are full of concern. It’s unmasked, out there in the open for Kihyun to see and hold. It’s not clouded by anything sinister or malicious and for a second Kihyun tries to catch his breath, to wrap his mind around how someone can be so open, so, so eager to just carry their emotions around like this, for the whole world to see and not be crippled with fear of getting hurt, of being used and taken advantage of. 

He looks away then, unable to stand it.

“When he said you’d crash for a few days, I was really curious about finally meeting you.” Hobi says slowly, almost thoughtfully, opening a can of soda, “You’re one of his longest friends after all. But from what I’ve heard about you, I think I just ... expected more anger. Much more anger.” 

Kihyun would love to prove him right. He really would but he’s just tired of everything. So fucking tired.

He thinks of that last message flashing on his screen and the way everything inside of him just seemed to wither and fall apart.

“Yeah, well,” Kihyun says after a while and throws him a guarded look. Hobi’s eyes are - aside of concerned - bright and kind, soft around the corners; he has a pleasant face too. Kihyun can tell that he’s a person more accustomed to smiles than frowns; it’s clear in the way that laughter bubbles out of him, so much quicker than mean words or anger ever do. He looks like the type of person Kihyun could never understand or befriend on his own. “I think I just... ran out of it.”

It gets him a nod only and another gentle smile; Hobi’s not pressing at all, not pushing, he’s just sitting there looking all calm and sweet and Kihyun feels like he’s filled with something that’s a second from bubbling over. 

“That’s fair, I mean you can only go for so long on anger alone,” Hobi chuckles fondly, turns the TV off so the mindless noise dies down. The moment of silence buzzes in Kihyun’s ears. “You know you can stay here as long as you can, right? We’re a tight fit, but we’ll manage.”

Something in those words takes him back all of the sudden.Takes him back to when Minhyuk and Hyungwon were a tight fit too, in a similarly small apartment. 

They took Kihyun in like this as well, when he was too lost and too stupid without Wonho, without his best friend and pillar and reason to move on. Without thinking, they let him disrupt their lives with his drinking and taking to the streets for hours to no end, with his fights, with his anger at the world and hurt that Wonho left him, with  _ his goddamn everything _ . 

His chest clenches, painful and his breath hitches as his hands curl around his knees, dig through the soft fabric of sweatpants into the bone

A disruption.

Again he causes a disruption, because he was too blind, too selfish to think past his own hurt, too scared. 

He should have met the reality head on, he should have…

He should have….

“Hey, hey, Kihyun.” Hobi presses himself closer and wraps an arm around his shoulder, hand wiping at Kihyun’s cheek and  _ oh, _ he’s crying because Hobi’s hand comes off wet, “Easy there. Easy. It’s fine. You’re fine.”

He’s pulled in close and it should be too close, too much - especially from practically a stranger even if Kihyun’s been living in Hobi’s hoodies lately - but it’s been so long and Kihyun’s been feeling like he’s stretched raw and too thin, and he just lets himself to be maneuvered where the younger boy wants him to be. He ends up sideways on the sofa, still in a tight little ball but with his head in Hobi’s lap and Hobi’s fingers in his hair, as he tries to control his breathing and stop his eyes from watering.

“I don’t know what happened and who keeps blowing up your phone day by day, but listen to me. You can stay as long as you want or need here,ok?” Hobi says, makes it sound both firm and sweet as he drags his fingers on the too long, too annoying strands on top of Kihyun’s head. “You’re Yoongi’s friend and you’re hurting. We’ve all been through shit, one way or other and no one is gonna hold the fact that you need to hide for a while against you.” 

For all that Hobi is a stranger to him, he seems to know perfectly well what to say. And it’s not odd at all, not too weird to be close to him. It’s surprisingly easy, to try and time his own breathing to the gentle tugging and pulling of his hair, to focus his senses to the way Hobi hums under his breath. 

“You talked to Yoongi about it?” He asks gently after a while and Kihyun shakes his head, the rough fabric of Hobi’s jeans scratching at his cheek. “It’s fine. You can talk to either of us if you want to. And if you don’t, that’s fine too.” 

He wants to recoil at those words, but Hobi shushes him softly and presses his fingers at the base of Kihyun’s head. It’s not too hard or too much, just enough to keep him in one place. It’s just for a moment and it still makes Kihyun deflate, before Hobi picks up the gentle tug-and-pull he had going on earlier. 

Hobi’s good at this, he thinks, at handling Kihyun when he can’t handle himself. 

And the thing is, Kihyun feels safe with this boy he’s known for barely over a week. He feels warm and taken care of, he feels like he can lay all of his shields and guards down for once. Maybe it’s a Hoseok thing. He mulls over what Hobi’s told him, about talking and not talking, takes stock of the way the unspoken things lay thick and heavy on his tongue.

Thinks about he’s filled to the brim and the way he feels like about to fall apart due to the weight of the truth he’s been holding in for so fucking long.

He blinks, curls his fingers to the point his knuckles hurt. Focuses his eyes on the raise of Hobi’s knees and the turned off TV on the other wall. 

“Hoseok.” He says quietly and Hobi hums to let Kihyun know he's listening but that's not it, that's not it at all and so Kihyun continues, squeezes the burning, bright truth out of his throat, "His name is Hoseok and I think.. I think I've loved him even before I knew what love was. And he,-" he takes a shuddering breath, presses his cheek into Hobi’s thigh, “Today, he wrote me he will leave me alone because that’s what I told him to do the last time I saw him.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” He twists so that he’s looking up at Hobi this time, holds his gaze and lets it wash over him, that steady warmth (one he has offered so plainly and easily to Kihyun) and it helps him rediscover his one truth, the one he has buried under the feeling of hurt and betrayal and regret. “But I don’t want that, Hobi. I really, really don’t want him to do that.”

Hobi smiles down at him, eyes crinkling up as if Kihyun said the exact thing he wanted to hear. He tugs a little at Kihyun’s hair and it coaxes out a small, fond huff out of Kihyun. He twirls a strand around his pinkie several times until Kihyun swats at his hand.

He’s smiling too, Kihyun realizes, a weight lifted off of his chest and Hobi’s smiling down at him and it feels like all those pieces of him are once again slotting against each other, perfect and seamless. 

“Well then,” Hobi says after a while and he sounds as playful as Minhyuk does on his best days, “You’re lucky Yoongi’s quite talented with the scissors. Can’t let you go looking like this.” 

\---

Wonho knows he’s officially reached the new level of pathetic when he decides his coffee tastes better from Kihyun’s mug. 

He’s sitting at the foot of their sofa, nursing his drink and his ache, and watching reruns of some long cancelled music show. He almost feels like he’s alone in the apartment - both Minhyuk and Shownu are out at work already and Hyungwon has yet to emerge from the bedroom where he’s happily snoozing. Not that Wonho’s keen on having any sort of conversation right now with anyone. 

He lets himself be pulled into the performances on the TV; the choreographies are sort of blocky and the songs are nothing like the things produced nowadays, but it all has some charm. 

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Hyungwon snorts as he enters the living room. 

“Fuck you,” Wonho mutters in reply because he can and he’s not in the mood for Hyungwon’s prickly comments. 

“You wish.” There are moments where he really, really wants to hate Hyungwon, Wonho sighs. When he’s being a dick, for example. “You’re going to mope the whole day through, sitting on the floor drinking coffee from Kihyun’s mug?”

That was pretty much Wonho’s plan. He doesn’t have to go to work today, after the scuffle from two days ago - the manager told him to stay home until his ribs get better. Fussy, if you were to ask Wonho - it’s nothing too serious, merely bruised and ok, maybe the bruising looks pretty impressive, a myriad of purples and yellows, but it doesn’t hurt all that much. 

Not unlike other things.

But what the manager says- stays, Wonho supposes and that’s why he’s doing exactly what Hyungwon has said he was.

Moping on the living room floor, drinking coffee from Kihyun’s mug and watching shitty programs. Trying not to think how he doesn’t really know where Kihyun is and if he’s doing ok. Half of his clothes are still neatly stacked in their shared wardrobe. Wonho sees them every fucking morning after all.

He looks up to Hyungwon and shrugs, taking a sip. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so obviously worried it’s pathetic. I’m sure Yoongi is taking good care of him.” Hyungwon throws casually, looking so damn unfazed Wonho wants to punch him so he can feel an inch of what he is feeling. 

And then the words sink in.

“Yoongi?” He says somewhat dumbly, because how the fuck does Hyungwon even know about Yoongi. 

Hyungwon gives him a look over one shoulder and by all means Wonho should wither if he had any self-consciousness left.

“Not sure if you remember, but I lived with Kihyun for two fucking years before you reappeared in his life,” he says slowly, a certain cold note in his voice, “Do you really think you are the only one who actually  _ knows _ anything about Kihyun? ”

His words are supposed to sting and hell yes, they do. Wonho knows he missed so much of Kihyun’s life, so many changes, but Kihyun never let him feel like it mattered and Wonho never thought too much of it, just rolled with it.

“Fucking lay off me will ya,” Wonho says, thumps his head against the sofa. “I fucked up, ok? I get it. Trust me, I fucking get it! But there is literally nothing I can do about it!” The hands at his sides curl into tight fists, tight enough that he can feel the way the skin is pulled over his knuckles. “I tried. I tried and I failed and I’m  _ sorry _ but there is absolutely nothing I can do anymore _. _ ”

Tears sting his eyes and he’s grateful that Hyungwon’s actually behind him and that he can’t see him properly but there’s that unmistakable hitch to his breath, betraying everything. For a longer moment, the only sound filling the silence between is his too-fast breathing. 

“Do you want to know why we all thought what we thought? About you two being a thing?”

It would be a lie to say he never wondered about it over the course of the past week, but in the grand scheme of things, what the fuck did it matter?

Hyungwon takes a seat on the opposite side of the low table. He looks very nice; with a crisp, white button up shirt, freshly dyed hair artifully messed up he actually looks like he's glowing. Wonho feels like a downright bum when he looks at him, in old sweats with holes on knees and Shownu’s ratty, old military t-shirt. He tries to shake that feeling off and only half-succeeds.

“He would never shut up about you,” Hyungwon says then, lighting a cigarette in a smooth elegant move. Some days, Wonho really hates Hyungwon. “Even when at first we barely knew shit about him, Min and me, we knew everything there was to know about you. Kihyun would rather talk about you and how you promised him stuff when you were fifteen than spill what was the way he’d like his coffee in the morning.”

Black, no sugar, Wonho immediately thinks, because Wonho  _ hated _ black unsweetened coffee and they began drinking it together, when they barely had any money to spare.

“Fucking hell, Won, you really need to do this now?” He asks, pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Yes, I need to do it now. I never seen him happier when he was with you, even if you two were just sitting, listening to Min’s drunken rambles or the kids bickering,” Hyungwon continues, blowing up a thick cloud of smoke and clearly not giving a damn about Wonho’s emotional state, “And you looked at him in a way Min looks at me or Jooheon looks at Kyun. He looked back at you like you were his whole fucking world. How the fuck did you not know what you guys were to each other?” 

“Hyungwon…” 

“He literally has your favorite flowers tattooed across his body. Or well, your favorite by association, but Kihyun’s not exactly fucking smart when it comes to you.”

Wonho almost makes a pained noise, almost, because he swallows it down along with something very bitter that is not his quickly cooling coffee. He remembers the strings of cosmos flowers on Kihyun’s skin, remembers the way he felt lightheaded when he first saw them, when he first touched them reverently. 

He remembers the waves of _ something _ that would awash him every time he’d put his mouth to the flowers, the thump of his heart whenever he pulled color to skin and ink and Kihyun would just laugh and call him an idiot, so soft, soft and sweet and god how did he fail to see so badly. 

“He said he doesn’t,- that he doesn’t remember.” he says after a while after he gets his breathing under control. 

“Of course he doesn’t remember, with how drunk off of his legs he was.” The annoyed look on Hyungwon face slips a little and Wonho gets a flash of something softer, something kinder, “Wouldn’t shut up the whole time about you still, even when I put the needle to his skin.” 

The implication - no, not even an implication anymore, just a hard naked fact - lies heavy on Wonho’s shoulders. He forgot Hyungwon used to ink people before; he only heard stories about it, because he apparently dropped it as a profession and never asked why he stopped. Now, he holds Hyungwon’s gaze for a while, unable to decide whether he wants to ask “ _ why you _ ” or say “ _ thank you _ ”. 

It doesn't matter.

Hyungwon knows, anyway. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he snorts, “I wouldn’t give him away to anyone. Not with something that important to him.” 

“What the hell does it matter anymore,” Wonho sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “Why are you telling me this anyway? It won’t change a fucking thing. He won’t pick up the phone, he won’t read my messages. Writing a letter is not a fucking option, he would burn it the second he’s see my handwriting. So tell me, what the fuck do you want me to do?”

Hyungwon snorts at it, stubs his cigarette out a little too aggressively if someone was to ask Wonho, “Fucking hell, you’re really an idiot. And as I said, Kihyun’s an idiot too, even if for slightly different reasons. And I told you because you needed to hear it so you can pull your head out of your ass when the time comes.”

There’s something ominous in the way he’s phrased the last sentence but even before Wonho has the chance to ask about it, Hyungwon’s phone beeps and he stands up, brushes his shirt off. 

“See ya later, hyung,” he throws casually and then the fucker just simply saunters away. 

Wonho wraps his fingers around the Ryan mug and thinks he really, really fucking hates him. 

\---

Kihyun jumps off the bus and crosses the street slowly, feeling uncertain all of the sudden. He’s right on time, he knows that, and still, for a second he hesitates. For a second he allows doubts to take over, to make him worry that this is not a good idea, quite the opposite actually. A horrible one, that may end up with nothing to salvage permanently. 

He wipes his sweaty hands over his thighs, shakes his head clear. 

No, he thinks to himself as he takes a deep breath. No, this will not end in a disaster. He opens the door to their communal building and almost crashes face first into Hyungwon on his way out. They look at each other for a brief second - and Kihyun blinks in surprise because Hyungon’s apparently changed his hair color during Kihyun’s absence and he looks unfairly good in tousled pastel pink tresses, the asshole - before Hyungwon’s lips stretch in a lazy, satisfied smile as he looks Kihyun up and down. Then he leans against the door frame lazily, sinfully graceful like some sort of high fashion model. It’s annoying, especially since Kihyun can place a safe bet that about fifteen minutes ago Hyungwon was still napping and took almost no care in his presence before he left the apartment. 

“So.” Hyungwon drawls out, a teasing lilt to his voice and oh god, why is Kihyun friends with him again, “Finally decided to take pity on us and save us from the misery Wonho’s been oozing all over the place?” His smile is more of that of the Cheshire cat than a concerned friend.

It makes Kihyun’s own mouth twitch at the corners.

Asshole. 

“Or maybe I’m here to save you from living in a dump, who knows.” Kihyun bumps into him lightly as he squeezes past to step inside. He scrunches up his nose, almost having forgotten how musky the corridor on the ground floor smells. “You will never know.”

“Oh yeah, I believe that,” Hyungwon reaches out, touching the decorative zippers on Kihyun’s dark blue jacket. It’s a new one, leather still stiff. Hobi,- Hobi might have dragged him out shopping before Yoongi got his hands on Kihyun the day before. “You definitely look the part for cleaning the second you step inside. Comfortable clothes and all.” 

“Good to see you’re still as annoying as ever.” Kihyun shakes his head, licks his lips. They feel dry. “Thanks, by the way.”

Hyungwon shrugs casually, pops the collar of his jacket without any reason to do so (besides it looking cool). Kihyun once again fights off the urge to smile - fucking hell, he missed him, despite Hyungwon blowing up his phone every single day. 

“Jooheon and Changkyun are away right now and Shownu and Min are working. I said I want to take Min out for a date like the generous, amazing and loving boyfriend that I am. Nothing to thank me for there.”

Kihyun ignores the self-praise (besides, Hyungwon is a generous, amazing and loving boyfriend to Minhyuk so no use in wasting breath there) and nods. He buries his hands in the pockets of his jacket, curls the fingers against his set of keys and welcomes the unpleasant feeling of metal digging into the inside of his palm. “Yeah, I know. Still… thanks.” 

Hyungwon’s face softens a little and yeah, Kihyun doesn’t have the mental capacity for Hyungwon being soft with him; not today at least. He steps into the corridor and inhales the dusty smell of the building.

“Hey, Ki, look,” Kihyun sighs as he hears Hyungwon approach and turns to look at him once he’s close enough; Hyungwon’s eyes from up this close seem a little red around the edges, so maybe he is not that stupidly perfect and able to hide behind his mask of blaise no matter what. “I know it’s probably not my place and what Wonho did was - ah, shitty to say the least…”

Understatement, that one. “Yeah. It’s not your place,” Kihyun agrees but his voice is soft, not cutting because Hyungwon’s not the one at fault here and besides, over the course of the few two weeks, Kihyun honest to god ran out of all anger. “So what’s your point, Won?”

“We’re all fucked up as it is, if for all different reasons. And yeah, he did fuck up things with you spectacularly,” Hyungwon reaches out and squeezes his shoulder a little, pressing his fingers into the fine, dyed leather. “But, Kihyun, don’t punish the both of you any more than you already did. He really…,” Hyungwon grimaces as if the words pain him, “You know I think you’re both idiots in this. But you two make sense together like things rarely do. Everything’s been wrong,  _ is _ wrong when you’re not together.” 

Kihyun holds Hyungwon’s gaze for a while longer, before he slips out from beneath his light touch. He doesn’t say anything else, just gives a little nod - and it can be up to Hyungwon to decide whether it’s in agreement or a goodbye - and starts to climb his way up. He avoids the creaky boards, more out of reflex than intent really and in a matter of minutes he’s standing in front of the too familiar door. 

Same door he walked out over three weeks ago. 

His heart hammers inside of his chest as he reaches for the knob, the beat stupid and erratic - it’s just Wonho inside, this shouldn’t be this hard (but it’s never only a  _ just _ when it comes toWonho) - and he needs to steady himself a little before he walks in. 

The place is, despite what he feared, not a total dumpster. It looks… ok. Doesn’t smell of anything else than smoke he always associated with their home, tinged with that ever-lasting fragrance of cheap coffee they use to drink in the mornings. He can hear the tv from the living room, hears groups singing and MCs talking and he smiles.

Wonho was always a sucker for music shows, he thinks and it’s such a fond thought, because Wonho, he’s- he can be so predictable sometimes.

“Min sacked you already?” Wonho yells out, clearly thinking he’s Hyungwon and why shouldn’t he, Kihyun hasn’t been here in a while and he didn’t exactly give Wonho any reason to believe he would be back soon.

He doesn’t reply, just leaves his bag near the door, slips out of his shoes and slowly makes his way around the corner. He’s certain of what he’ll see. 

Sure enough, Wonho’s sitting on the floor by the sofa, a mug of coffee by his hip - and Kihyun’s brows raise as he sees it - as he’s focused on the show in front of him. 

Kihyun leans against the door and waits, waits; not taking his eyes off of Wonho’s soft mess of bleached hair, the nice line of his neck and the old, washed out tshirt that somehow is big enough to slip off one shoulder. He must have nicked it from Shownu, Kihyun thinks with a strange mix of fondness and ache, because it means Wonho’s very not ok if he took someone’s clothes for comfort. Despite everything, the sight of Wonho like this, homey and soft and so casual, with black roots starting to show and bare feet poking out from underneath worn out sweats, makes something inside of Kihyun settle. 

Makes him painfully aware just how fucking much Wonho means to him.

“Hyung-,” Wonho finally turns away from the tv. His brows that were furrowed shoot up immediately when he sees Kihyun there, the name of their friend torn mid-way. His eyes widen, almost comically so and then, there’s silence stretching thick and heavy between them. 

“That’s my mug.” Kihyun finally says quietly and corrects his stance a little, leaning more of his weight against the wall. He can literally feel the way Wonho looks him up and down in shock, and he can feel in some sort of semi-sympathy how Wonho’s throat works as he swallows all of the sudden. “Hi, hyung.”

He can  _ feel _ the caught up air in Wonho’s lungs before he whispers, “Hey, Ki,” and the weight of it lays so hard and heavy on Kihyun’s shoulders. It’s like the sound of his shortened name could break something between them. 

He waits. 

“You,… you look good, Ki,” Wonho finally says, voice tight and all sorts of wrong, eyes doe-like wide as he paws for the remote to switch off the tv and Kihyun fights the urge to smile at him. Of course he looks good, Yoongi didn’t spend almost three hours the day before - Hobi laughing his ass off as Yoongi acted like a pissed off mother hen - fussing over him with a razor and bleach and dye for Kihyun not to look his damn best for this. “Did,- ah, did you forget something?” 

“Yeah. I did forget something, actually,” he says simply and without hesitation, and something in Wonho’s eyes dims at that, dies a little and it makes Kihyun ache, “I forgot how much of an idiot you can be.” 

Wonho’s brows furrow and his jaw ticks; there’s a flash of something hot in his eyes and instantly Kihyun feels a thrill of an upcoming argument. But it doesn’t happen.

Instead that light in Wonho’s eyes sizzles away, and he hangs his head low, shoulders sagging. “That’s… yeah,” he says quietly,  _ defeated  _ and Kihyun scoffs. 

He curls his hands into fists, digs his nails into the insides of his palms.

“What, that’s it?” He asks and fuck he deserves some sort of award for this, because his voice comes cold and cutting when in reality, all he feels is the need to move, to touch and finally stop hurting. ”You just gonna leave it like this?”

Wonho shrugs and the gesture is more hopeless than he probably intended it to be, “You made it perfectly clear what you wanted.” He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, “For me to leave you alone. So...” he trails away and that says more than any other word could. 

Kihyun watches him for a second, before he finally does move. He takes a quick look around the room on the short way to the sofa, notices the thin layer of dust on the coffee table; but all in all it seems pretty decent. When he takes a seat right next to Wonho, he can feel him tense up.

He keeps his eyes on Wonho and Wonho stubbornly keeps his eyes averted, seemingly enthralled with his bare toes as if he has never seen him before in his life.

“You can be so fucking dense sometimes, but to be fair,” Kihyun says after a while, when it’s clear Wonho’s not going to break the heavy silence between them, “I’ve also been a huge idiot. And I was really fucking angry at you. And at myself, too, when you came to see me in Goyang unannounced.”

“Yeah, no, I, I get it.” Wonho agrees immediately. Their legs brush, Kihyun’s jeans against Wonho’s sweats and Kihyun swears he can feel Wonho’s body heat through layers of fabric. Even so little makes him feel like he’s sloshed in warm water and he wants  _ so badly  _ to move like he’s supposed to, to touch, but first things first and besides, Wonho’s still talking “I’m still pretty mad at myself too, cause I made a whole lot of assumptions and, and I…”

“Do you remember how you were the very first person outside of my family I told I was gay?” Kihyun decides to interrupt, because he knows that if he’s allowed to, Wonho’s going to go on a fifteen minute rant. It works like a charm too because Wonho closes his mouth so fast and so hard his teeth clank a little. Kihyun turns his head, looks at him for a long while. Waits patiently for Wonho to connect the dots.

It’s painfully clear after a few minutes that the dots do  _ not _ connect that easily because Wonho merely blinks at him, his eyes filled with confusion, “Yeah?”

“ _ Gay _ .” He says again and barely manages not to smile, his chest suddenly too small to hold in all that fondness he has for Wonho as Wonho tips his head to the side, still not understanding where Kihyun is going with throwing his sexual orientation into the air like this. Yeah, Kihyun definitely deserves to be called an idiot so he just sighs, “Not bi or pan, no interest in girls… Besides, Jesus fuck, Hoseok, come on, why on earth would I ever fuck anyone else…? When there was  _ you, _ of all people?”

He can see the moment it fully registers - the absolute horror and remorse in Wonho’s eyes as the realization slams into him like a sledge hammer - and fuck, this really hurts, because this just proves how much they screwed up their friendship somehow along the way. Then, Kihyun picks up, before Wonho can choke on air only or something and continues, “I admit that when you called it off, that,- that thing we had, I thought, ok, you got bored. Or I became too much. Or that you found someone that was less all of this,” he makes a gesture towards the room, the whole mess that perfectly represents their lives before he turns to face Wonho, a wry smile on his face, “You know, someone who is less me.”

Wonho’s face  _ softens _ so damn painfully and his eyes get that funny tight pitch to their outer corners and he opens his mouth again - if anyone knows how much of a mess Kihyun is, that’s Wonho and he always took it all in stride - but Kihyun just shakes his head. He needs to say his piece first and not hear Wonho’s attempts at cheering him up or beating himself up for something they both pretty much screwed up from the very beginning. 

Fucking hell, hindsight is a bitch, indeed. 

“Lemme finish first,” he says, distracts himself for a moment to fish out a half-empty pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. He fiddles with it for a second, before he pulls one out. He lights it and takes a long drag before he says what he should have said a very long time ago, “What I mean to say is that, look, you said you fucked up. And if you meant what I ho,-think you meant, then I fucked up too. ‘Cause truth is,- it was never just an arrangement for me, even if I believed it to be otherwise. Even if I kept telling myself it’s otherwise.”

He’s damn sure his eyes are as wide as Wonho’s are as they stare at each other then. This time, it’s Kihyun who looks away first, feeling his cheeks warm up unpleasantly.

“Fuck, holy shit, ” Wonho curses under his breath and runs a hand over his face. He’s quiet for a moment, biting at his lower lip before he speaks up, “But why the fuck didn’t you tell me, Kihyun? About the girls I mean?”

“I..I thought you  _ knew _ . I mean, everyone knew!” He exhales a large cloud of smoke and focuses on the way it slowly unravels before his eyes. “I’ve been doing this for years, where do you think I got the money from? How on earth did you miss that fact? How was I supposed to know you would think I’m whoring myself out like this?”

Next to him Wonho winces, then puts one hand over his mouth as he shakes his head. As he slowly digests the information Kihyun just dumped on him and the bite in that last question.

It’s not that Kihyun wants to drag Wonho for that, even if he sort of deserves it for being a dick. In a way it’s fair treatment, a sort of payback; after all, that one and only night when Wonho saw him in Goyang when he spilled his stupid truth? Kihyun spent hours in Yoongi’s arms shaking after Wonho dropped his bombshell, cussing him out and trying to drink his own weight in soju. For the first night or three Yoongi let him do just that, rubbed his back when Kihyun threw up for hours to no end then proceeded to kick his ass for two weeks straight when he was home. And when Yoongi wasn’t there, there was Hobi. Hobi was gentler, offered a hug and a shoulder to lean on and skillfully drew him out of his head, but the fact remained a fact, that both of them supported him in their own ways - which he sure didn’t deserve for crashing into their lives like that - until Kihyun could finally think straight and properly, make a decision and go home.

His true home. 

“So yeah, I’m sorry,” he says after he finishes his smoke and Wonho sighs. He’s been tugging on his hair the whole time they’ve been silent, those bleached strands of his sticking out in every direction right now and Kihyun feels his fingers twitch with the urge to smooth them out. With the need to grasp at Wonho’s hands and hold them, and not let go. “I should’ve talked to you. Before everything. And I’m really sorry for that.” 

“Me too,” Wonho speaks almost immediately and his voice is so honest and his eyes are so unguarded. For a second Kihyun is thrown off by his duality because sometimes it’s hard to believe this earnest boy is the same guy who can throw a grown up man onto the street without much effort and break Kihyun’s heart with just a few words. “And, and I meant what I said in Goyang, I still do, and there’s still so much more I should tell you. I just… I don’t know. I fucked it all up. And because I was so stupidly jealous that I didn’t think for a second, I drove you away. I didn’t think and… I lost my best friend. I lost you, Kihyun.” 

“But I’m here, right here, with you,” Kihyun scoots closer, presses them shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip and feel that old, familiar electric current sizzle down his spine. His stomach swoops with how he missed the proximity of his best friend, the feel of the bulk of him next to Kihyun’s smaller, leaner frame. He barely manages to stop himself from leaning in, resting his cheek against the curve of Wonho’s shoulder. Not yet, he reminds himself, even if Wonho’s breath hitches as well and he’s damn sure they’re both on the same page here, almost buzzing with the need to reach and touch. “We’re all seriously fucked up, like Hyungwon likes to point out. Maybe me the most of the whole bunch, ‘cause shit, we’ve managed to hurt each other like this and you’re still the most important person to me.” He gives out a humorless laugh, trying to calm his breathing because eveything about this is still very raw and still very scary, “‘Cause even back there, in Goyang, I was so fucking mad at you, because you were the one person I trusted not to hurt me and you  _ did _ and I still almost punched my brother in his stupid face for running his mouth about you.”

“You did?” Wonho blinks at him and it says something about him that his eyes are all round and dewy innocence, that sort that he never seemed to entirely lose as he grew up. He hid so well but it was there, underneath all the layers and grime even Kihyun sometimes forgot it was still there. “But why would you...?”

“Because you may be a thoughtless dumbass sometimes,” Kihyun huffs, immediately annoyed at the sheer memory of his asshole of a brother, his righteous tirades and lectures, “But you’re my thoughtless dumbass. I wasn’t about to let him talk shit about you like he has any right to do that.”

The way Wonho brightens up should be considered impossible, but it’s literally as if someone slowly flooded a dark room with warm sunlight. His smile is slow to appear, a gentle tug of his lips at first and it also causes his eyes to crinkle up; it lights him up as he looks at Kihyun as if he just handed him a couple of stars from the sky. It makes breathing a little easier and a little harder at the same time, Kihyun’s heart swelling in his chest all of the sudden with years of affection and weeks of hope and, and … 

“Am I? Yours?” Wonho asks and he sounds as breathless as Kihyun feels and Kihyun just gives up on all further pretenses. They’re not worth it, his battered heart and bruised pride are not worth losing a chance, a shot at this, at them. 

He wants to be happy, he wants to be happy  _ with _ Wonho so he does the only thing he can.

He hefts himself up, throws one leg over Wonho’s and settles in his lap like it’s the most natural thing for him to do.

And it is, he thinks,  _ it is _ because he slots himself perfectly, and Wonho’s hands immediately settle on his hips, gentle like no one would think Wonho is even able to be, and Kihyun’s are wound around the back of his neck like they belong there. They do. He does. 

He leans forward, presses their foreheads together and just lets himself breathe for a second or two. His heart is a flutter in his chest, jack-rabbiting against his ribs and his throat is scratchy with everything that’s still unsaid. 

But for a moment, Kihyun lets himself have this, lets himself soak up the warm and the familiar shape of Wonho underneath him. He listens to Wonho’s hitching breathing, focuses on the way his palms fit perfectly over his hips, on the slight tension in his thighs.

He feels the same kind of tension; the one from holding yourself back, despite wanting the same thing, from having everything right underneath your fingertips. 

“You’re an asshole, Lee Hoseok,” he says simply, pressing his thumbs behind Wonho’s ears. Wonho’s eyelids flutter and Kihyun’s breath manages to catche a little at the sight but there are still things he needs to say, “But you  _ are _ mine and I can be an asshole too and I’m still  _ yours _ . If you want to, that is. But you do this … petty jealous shit one more time, I promise you here and now, I will cut your dick off. I thought I _ did _ something, you jackass.”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry Ki. And yeah, ok, fair deal,” Wonho squeezes his hips once, his smile becoming even more blinding and it’s pathetic, it really is, but Kihyun’s never been looked at like this by anyone and frankly, he doesn't want anyone else to look at him like that except Wonho, “And hey, I’ll even sharpen the knife and let Wonnie hold me down, ok? And I want to, fucking hell Kihyun, of course I want to.”

“You’re the fucking weirdest, I swear,” Kihyun mutters and finally,  _ finally  _ tilts his head, effectively ending the conversation by pressing their mouths together.

And this, this moment, this is what feels like finally coming home. Feels like finally breathing, even if he’s not entirely capable of doing that, kissing Wonho the way he is. It isn’t exactly sweet and gentle, but a harsh press of mouths and a swipe of tongue, catching on the faint taste of metal that he missed so much. Wonho’s fingers tighten where they’re curled over the sharp rise of Kihyun’s hips, digging into this skin even through the jeans and cotton. 

Oh god, how he missed this, Kihyun thinks as he tries to press himself even closer, as Wonho pulls him in, slips his hands under the shirt Kihyun’s wearing. 

The glide of his hands on Kihyun’s skin is beautiful, grounding. 

Even when he saw Wonho in Goyang, no matter how hurt and pissed off he was - at the sight of Wonho standing in front of Kihyun’s childhood home - the only thing that he really, really wanted to do most was to run to him, to wrap his arms around Wonho’s neck and to kiss him. Kissing Wonho was something that came as natural to Kihyun as breathing, as if he was the air in his lungs or a drink of cold water on a hot summer day; it was something he missed the most when they put a stop to their whole weird friends with benefits arrangement. He missed the taste of Wonho’s kisses, the glide of his mouth over Kihyun’s skin and the feel of his warm breath against Kihyun’s cheek. He missed the comfort of Wonho’s kisses, of the funny warmth it made appear in the pit of his stomach. 

He missed kissing Wonho somewhat fierce and now he’s about to rectify that, so he gentles the kiss, slows it down to something sweet. 

“I’m sorry,” Wonho smears the words against Kihyun’s mouth, “I never wanted… Just. Kihyun, I’m sorry.”

“Same,” he groans, because he is, he is and he  _ knows  _ Wonho never wanted to drive him out but Kihyun needed to be away even if they were both hurting, especially when they were both hurting, so that he  _ could _ come back. He pulls away for a second, takes in the disbelief in Wonho’s eyes, the tentative hope and something much more frail and beautiful. It makes his heart ache in a very complicated way and there are so many things he’d still like to say right now, but all that comes out when he strokes a thumb over Wonho’s cheek, is a soft and gentle, “Hoseok.”

He’s still unable to tell Wonho everything, it seems, chokes up on the words but Wonho’s pretty much the same, the way he’s looking at him with blown pupils and parted mouth, but that’s ok, Kihyun’s finally able to read him the way he should. 

Wonho loves him the same stupid, desperate, blind way Kihyun loves him back. 

And when Wonho kisses him again, harder, more fierce Kihyun can feel the love Wonho has for him wrap around his heart and settle in the marrow of his bones. He wiggles a bit, slips the jacket and throws it to the side so he’s more comfortable and less restricted; swallows the appreciative sound Wonho makes as his nails draw lines down Kihyun’s back. 

“Kihyun,” Wonho mumbles and tries to bring him in even closer, Kihyun’s knees scratching at the old carpet because closer sounds good, best, they’ve been apart too long and Kihyun wants no more space between them. 

A different kind of warmth pools deep in his stomach and he paws at Wonho’s t-shirt, mutters something he’s not even able to recognize but Wonho makes a sound that’s definitely an agreement. . 

He jerks back when the phone blares suddenly from the back pocket of his pants, the ringtone’s sound ear-piercingly shrill in the otherwise silent room. Kihyun groans, not the fun kind of a groan too, as he accidentally slams their foreheads together. Wonho clumsily fishes it out, hands it over but for a brief moment, Kihyun’s distracted - who wouldn’t be, Wonho’s “thoroughly kissed'' look is a work of art, with blazing eyes and swollen, half-open lips as he sucks in heavy breaths. He wants to ignore the ringing damned thing and go back to what they were doing. 

He notices the name on the screen, however and is immediately annoyed as he swipes to answer the call. 

“The fuck you want?” He rasps out and hopes Hyungwon fucking chokes for disturbing. 

“You fucking already,” Hyungwon says instead of a greeting and he sounds breathless and angry and worried all in the same time, and that is what gives Kihyun pause, ”Or are you still emo vomiting all over your place? Cause Min’s actually doing the literal vomiting part without the emo and I need to get him home right now.”

Holy. Shit.

“Fucking hell,” Kihyun scrambles off of Wonho’s lap without any grace at all and onto the floor, wincing as he hits the corner of the table with his hip, “Yeah, sure. We’re cool, we’re, we’re decent, come back home.”

He throws the phone on the sofa and takes a deep breath before looking back at Wonho. He’s watching him with a slightly dazed, slightly alert expression, his cheeks still tinted pink and his lips still kiss-red and looking so damn inviting. And while Kihyun wants to be a good friend and he loves Minhyuk, he’s unable to stop himself - he reaches out one more time, presses a kiss to Wonho’s plush mouth. 

“So, apparently, Minhyuk’s worse than shit,” he mutters against Wonho’s lips, presses almost apologetic kisses at its corner while Wonho’s fingers twine in his hair, “They’re gonna be home soon and I guess we gotta help out.”

“For the record,” Wonho replies in kind, tightens his fingers and catches Kihyun’s mouth briefly and Kihyun moans at how good it feels, Wonho kissing him short but hot, “I hate them both very much right now.” 

They share the same sentiment. 

\---

The whole Minhyuk thing is an honest to god disaster. 

When Wonho saw him earlier in the morning, he looked just fine. It’s merely a few hours later and Hyungwon half carries, half drags him back to the apartment. He looks like shit, pale, sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead and all thoughts of jokingly hating Minhyuk were out the window. He still threw up in the small corridor - onto the wall opposite of the hangers, just the one where Jooheon and Changkyun painted their unexplained images sometimes, before Hyungwon managed to drag him into the bathroom. 

Kihyun immediately barricaded himself in the kitchen, preparing a ginseng and peppermint drink for Minhyuk and setting up some light stew for later - in hopes Minhyuk will be able to keep it down, while Wonho was tasked with the clean up. 

Let it be said, Wonho did not feel very charitable towards his friend as he wiped the wall clean, gagging at the stench. It could be worse, he thinks in an attempt to cheer himself up, Minhyuk could have puked his guts all over the other wall, where the coat hanger is and their shoes are cluttered underneath. 

An hour later the apartment smells of cleaning detergents than anything else, the smell so strong and annoying that they have all the windows open wide. Hyungwon is on MInhyuk duty in their room, equipped with the mop bucket for emergencies and meds for once his boyfriend’s stomach finally settles. Wonho’s on the phone texting Jooheon and Changkyun not to come around until everything is clear. The last thing they need is to get the kids sick; their parents barely tolerate them hanging around the place as it is and Wonho is sure it’s only because of Shownu and his amazing, calm presence. 

Their youngest friends are  _ not _ happy about it, fussing in the group chat and loudly complaining with an abundance of Apeach gif reactions, but it all dies down when Kihyun suddenly joins in the exchange, telling them to shut it and that he doesn’t want them anywhere near a potentially sick Minhyuk. 

Wonho’s pretty sure it’s more of the fact that Kihyun hadn’t replied to any of their texts in the group chat for the last three weeks than anything more, his replies clearly indicating that he’s back at the shared apartment. 

He stretches himself , half-lying on the sofa after everything’s settled, next to where Kihyun’s lounging as well, one hand over his face. He’s breathing heavily from the rush they were just in and he smells a bit of the spices he used for the stew. 

“I did not miss  _ this _ ,” Kihyun groans after a while, when Wonho’s settled next to him, “Fuck, I hate everyone so much right now. Am considering disowning.”

“Really?” Wonho asks and he’s unable to hide the fragility of his tone. “Everyone?” 

It feels like that sort of make or break moment between them, again, despite everything and because of everything. Kihyun looks at Wonho from between his fingers, before he lets his hand fall and he cracks a tired smile. His hair is so messed up and there’s some weird stain on his shirt from when he was frantically trying to cook up something Minhyuk could keep down. 

Kihyun looks soft and homey and beautiful, and just the sight of him makes all these weeks of self-induced misery fade away into nothing.

“Nah,” Kihyun draws the sound out and vulnerability makes his eyes seem so much brighter, his face so much younger, “Can’t disown Shownu even if I tried.” 

Wonho manages to breathe easily for a whole second, before the sound of Minhyuk throwing up again reaches their ears and they both cringe, hearing Hyungwon’s soft murmurs following soon after. 

Just what they need, Wonho thinks miserably, a potential flu outbreak in this already messy household. 

Kihyun groans again and moves. He pushes Wonho back a little so that he can stretch out in a way that has him half laying on Wonho’s chest, a perfect, warm, tired weight. He has one ear flattened over Wonho’s heart, one arm thrown around his ribs.

He fits, Wonho thinks with a rush of devotion and fondness and love, he fits against Wonho so damn well, all of his sharp and cracked edges against Wonho’s own. 

“Hey hyung,” Kihyun murmurs looking up at him. The air is somewhat warmer now, thicker as Wonho makes a soft sound, eyes meeting Kihyun’s and ignoring the way his sharp chin digs almost painfully into his chest. He’s so pretty like this, Wonho thinks as he plays with Kihyun’s hair with one hand, tugs at the pretty dyed strands and twirls them around his fingers. He was always the prettiest when he was so close Wonho could breathe him in. “Hoseok?”

“Yeah?” He blinks twice, forces himself to pay attention. It’s hard though, when he feels whole and complete after such a long time of being askew. “Yeah, I’m listening?”

Kihyun pushes himself up a little then, kisses him in a way that can be only described as sugary sweet. There’s a twinkle in his eye when he pulls back a little, hoovering right there, just an inch above Wonho. “You gonna mother me like that if those two idiots get me sick?”

\---

In the end, it’s Wonho who gets sick a couple of days later. 

Kihyun holds his hair when needed and his hand when he’s whining, presses kisses to this temple when he runs out of energy and can only lie in his bed. Calls him an  _ ‘overly dramatic idiot _ ” whenever Wonho says he’s going to die - and to be fair, it’s probably every ten minutes or so - and Wonho hears the unspoken ‘ _ i love you _ ’ between every letter, every time. 

At nights, Kihyun sleeps wrapped tightly around him; cold feet between Wonho’s calves and one hand splayed over his stomach. He doesn’t seem to mind that Wonho breaks out in cold sweat or tosses and turns. 

And in the mornings, when Wonho feels the worst, waking up with the feeling of his stomach knocking at the back of his teeth and bile at the back of his throat, Kihyun shushes him, puts a cold hand to his forehead and murmurs gentle, sleepy things into his ear. 

“Kihyunnie,” Wonho always whispers sleepily and Kihyun always presses into him more, despite Wonho being too hot and sweaty, puts his hands all over Wonho’s skin, tangles sheets and their feet together. 

Just like before, way before, with the two of them like that, it’s too crowded and too much; Kihyun and him in a small bed, too hot, cramped and perfect. 

“Go back to sleep,” Kihyun whispers in his ear, presses a soft kiss to the soft spot right behind it, “I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

And when Wonho does open his eyes at noon, Kihyun is there at his side. 

Kihyun is and always has been right there and Wonho’s damn sure he’s never making the mistake of letting him go again. 

  
  


  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END
> 
> thank you everyone for following the story, I hope you enjoyed the mishaps and resolutions :)
> 
> thank you to Kaine and Mari for being absolutely fantastic cheer-readers and supporters, without whom I would probably struggle 120% more than I already did.


	8. Chapter 8

##  Epilogue

Going back to how they were, despite being as fast as possible, still takes a while. They fall back at each other’s sides instantly and into one bed with no hesitation, even when Wonho’s sick and whiny and being all kinds of a dramatic ass. It’s kind of cute, in a way, with how demanding he is of Kihyun’s attention and how Kihyun gets to literally baby him - it makes him fall a little bit more in love with him, not that he would admit it out loud, not even to Wonho. It’s bad enough he had to admit it to himself and even then he feels his ears and cheeks heat up. 

In their flatmates’ eyes, everything is back to how it’s supposed to be; maybe a little more, because Wonho kisses Kihyun after meals as a  _ thank you _ and Kihyun kisses Wonho when he leaves for work as a  _ see you later,  _ and Mihyuk gets to make gagging noises that stop the moment Kihyun throws a can at his head. (He doesn’t miss, the bump is fucking impressive and he is not sorry even when Hyungown gives him the nastiest glare possible.) They sleep tangled together in sheets and each other’s arms, pressed close enough it should be uncomfortable. It’s not. Of course, it’s not. They clutch at each other’s hands and shoulders just like before, fingers slipping under t-shirts when they mutter a  _ goodnight _ after  _ goodnight _ against each other’s mouths and when everything turns hot and charged between them. 

And that’s where the change lies, Kihyun doesn’t need to be a certified genius to know that. Because they always stop there, breathing heavily staring at each other with lust-and-love blown eyes, with almost no space left between them but somehow never crossing that one last inch, the very same that already has been crossed months ago. 

It was different then, somehow easier when they lied to themselves, Kihyun thinks one night, when he buries himself in the heap of sheets and blankets, as he cocoons himself on fluffed up pillows that smell of their  _ ice cool  _ aftershaves, the shared minty shampoo and something that resonates as  _ them _ within Kihyun’s heart. Wonho’s outworking that night, so it means Kihyun has all of the bed to himself. 

They bought a new one, finally not a bunk one - what use was there for a bunk bed anyway, when they shared the lower one. It’s not huge by any means even if it looks like that in their small room, stretching from wall to wall, but it’s comfortable and theirs and that’s more than enough.

He sighs softly as he finally settles, wrapped up tight and warm and nice, but not nice enough (no matter how many blankets and sheets and pillows there are, nothing is ever as nice as being wrapped up in Wonho in every sense of the word). His eyelids seem laden, and his body slowly relaxes but Kihyun knows all too well there’s still a long time before he truly falls asleep. 

He’s going to spend long hours not exactly sleeping, but not quite awake as well, in that strange half-lucid state; in limbo, waiting for the all too familiar shuffle of feet, for Wonho’s weight to dip the mattress next to him. When it happens, Kihyun will mumble something that will supposedly be Wonho’s name, before turning, burrowing in close. He’ll press himself against the wide plane of Wonho’s back, nose pressed between his shoulder blades. 

Wonho will shift every now and then, before settling down with a long sigh; he’ll smell of their shower gel, skin so warm from his late shower that Kihyun will feel it even through the threadbare shirt. He’ll lace their fingers, press them against his stomach, hook one ankle over Kihyun’s and whisper a goodnight, and then, then they’ll fall asleep all proper. 

Right now, he can still hear the muffled voices from the next room, Minhyuk’s laughter, and Hyungwon shushing him amidst his own giggles. Those are good sounds to slowly lose consciousness to, Kihyun muses and burrows his face further into the pillow. Happy noises, happy sounds. 

Then there’s another noise, the door slamming close, breaking through Kihyun’s half-asleep, soft and warm bubble; shoes cluttering and steps, too fast all of the sudden and a tendril of worry worms its way into Kihyun’s mind. Neither of their youngest is spending the night and it’s still too early for Wonho or Shownu to be back from their shifts. Something must have happened, Kihyun thinks sluggishly, opening his eyes with effort and he yawns, trying to shake off the sleep that not entirely has claimed him. 

Just in time to see the door open and Wonho come in, hair a mess and cheeks flushed red. 

He looks frantic and wild and Kihyun just stares, half-propped on one elbow because why on earth, what is he-

Wonho shakes his head - and it seems he’s doing that at himself rather than at Kihyun - and just lets his jacket drop to the floor, crossing the meager space between the door and the bed in three steps, the mattress giving way under his weight as he crawls over Kihyun. 

He looks wild, Kihyun thinks falling back and looking up at Wonho, wild and beautiful, hair a mess and a flush across his nose. He’s breathing harder than usual too, chest heaving and he’s silent, hovering over an equally quiet Kihyun - but that’s purely because he’s still trying to wrap his mind around what the hell is Wonho even doing here in the first place. 

And what has happened to have him looking like that, frantic and disbelieving and as if someone just shook all the foundations of his earth. 

“Wonho?” Kihyun is the first to break the silence, his voice coming out raspy and syrup thick. A yawn escapes him and he rubs at his eyes because there’s a chance that he’s actually dreaming this up. 

(Wouldn’t be the first time, really, to dream of a heavy breathing Wonho all over him.)

But no, this time it’s not a dream. 

Wonho’s very real and he looks at him like Kihyun’s about to disappear if he so much as blinks, as if he will vanish into thin air; as if he wasn’t still all sleep soft and warm, staring up at Wonho from their shared pillows in what he can only assume is the dumbest way possible.. 

And yet, in the meantime, Kihyun’s worry trickles, because if it was something bad, well, Wonho would tell him already. Curiosity starts to blossom though, what has gotten Wonho so high strung and what has caused him to 

“Kihyun,” Wonho finally breathes out, eyes blown wide as he reaches up to touch. His fingers are a barely-there, cold touch on Kihyun’s warm cheek, uncertain and hesitant as he almost never is. He trails them across his cheekbone, to his nose, and down its bridge. Brushes over the bow of Kihyun’s mouth as it trembles beneath the touch. “Kihyunnie.” 

“What has gotten into you?” Kihyun mutters and pushes himself up, or tries to actually, because Wonho’s half-leaning over him, all of his weight and bulk a warm, unmoving mass. “Are you skipping work, because if you are and they kick you out…”

“I said I had to take today off. Because I did, I had to.” With that Wonho finally moves and oh, in a way Kihyun highly approves of. He leans in quickly, presses an Autumn chilled kiss to Kihyun’s mouth; he smells faintly of the remains of perfume he slapped on earlier, smoke from the club, and the pollution from Seoul’s streets. It’s a pretty distinctive Wonho smell. “Had to come home, to you,” Wonho kisses the words into Kihyun’s lips. He lingers close even after he pulls away, filling Kihyun’s sight and world with himself. 

As if he’s not Kihyun’s world enough as it is, Kihyun thinks fondly to himself as Wonho just stares at him, still short of breath and still frazzled. A frazzled Wonho, however, Kihyun knows how to handle, how to ease, and soothe. He raises his hands to twine his fingers in Wonho’s hair, tugs gently.

“Come back here, you,” he says softly, voice sand-rough for all the good reasons and Wonho nods, leanes back in. 

Kihyun kisses the taste of the city from his lips, the trace of sprinkled water they serve at the bar and the remains of smoke. Kisses him soft and slow, until Wonho seems to finally relax above him and his long exhale tickles Kihyun’s cheek. Kisses him a little more then, until his heart feels so damn light in his chest and everything,  _ everything _ is just about them. 

Everything is gentle, languid; almost like they are usually not. 

Then again - 

It was never, ever a hardship to be gentle with Wonho, Kihyun realizes between kisses, between one breath of air and another. With and around him, all walls and shields down, just Kihyun in Wonho’s orbit. It was easy as breathing, to come closer, to fit alongside of him, to touch and to hold and to just be. 

“Hoseok,” Kihyun presses Wonho’s name against his lips, a barely-there breath of warm air and he swears he can feel Wonho’s eyelashes flutter before he pulls away. It takes a second for everything to regain its focus, for Wonho to open his eyes and blink thrice. 

He looks ruffled and confused and beautiful like that, with a flush over his cheeks and red lips, hair messed up from Kihyun’s fingers. He’s waiting for whatever Kihyun wants to say and there’s something simply enchanting swirling in his eyes, catching the faint light of their night-lamp and turning them all kinds of amber and gold. 

He’s so soft like this, Kihyun thinks with so much fondness and affection it all catches in his throat and makes his heart flutter funnily. Because where Kihyun’s easily gentle with Wonho, Wonho’s this kind of soft with Kihyun and no one else; not even with Jooheon or Changkyun, not completely, not exactly. 

This is for Kihyun and Kihyun’s only. 

It’s easy to suddenly find his courage when Wonho looks at him like that, like he’s precious and one of a kind and Wonho’s to keep. (He is.)

(And Wonho is his.)

He lets his hands slip from his hair to his face, brushes his thumbs over warm cheeks, looks his fill as if Wonho’s not the sight he wakes up to every morning. 

“I love you,” he says after a while, out of the blue and as certain as he has ever been of something in his life, and Wonho somehow manages to both turn pale and flush pink. “I love you so fucking much, Hoseok.”

It’s been building inside of him for days now, the words laying thick and heavy, clogging up his throat. It’s what’s been holding him back, that one last truth that was so obvious, so loud without being said out at all. 

Their last wall and just like that, in a splinter of a second, it comes crumbling down and out of Kihyun’s mouth. 

Wonho leans down again, kisses the tip of his nose and Kihyun scrunches up in fake disgust as if he hasn’t just mellowed the already sweet atmosphere between them to absolutely ridiculous levels. 

“You’ve always been the braver one,” Wonho says quietly, smiling so bright he might replace the sun, “It’s … I’ve been wondering how to tell you that for days now and you just…”

“Blurt it out? That’s lack of impulse control, not bravery.” 

“Still.” 

“Still, not a competition,” Kihyun teases gently, tucks a few strands of hair behind Wonho’s ear because it really is not but the thing is, Kihyun is very much in love with a stubborn mule and if Wonho’s given an inch, he’ll go a mile. And right now he feels warm all over and not all of it is caused by Wonho’s proximity and the covers between them and definitely not in a mood to deal with Wonho’s stubborn streak. He smiles at him, pats the top of one warm ear with his forefinger, “But, does this mean you  _ literally  _ rushed home to declare your undying love to me, hyung?” 

In a second Wonho’s face does something hilariously _ painful _ as he groans and collapses to the bed next to Kihyun, covering his face with one hand. 

“I take everything back, I hate you, you’re the worst,” Wonho mutters, so painfully fake and Kihyun fails to keep his laugh in. 

Still laughing, feeling like his chest is too small, too tight for every elated feeling, he digs himself from underneath the covers and clambers over Wonho, settling in his lap. 

“Even if I am, which I am not,” he says with a bright smile and Wonho peeks at him from behind his fingers, eyes downright twinkling and oh god, they’ve become a teenage romance cliche. Kihyun leans forward a little as he peels Wonho’s hand away from his face so that he can look straight at him all proper, “You still love me.”

Before Wonho has a chance to answer there’s a frustrated groan coming from the other room and a thump as if someone threw something heavy against the wall. 

“Can you two please stop being so fucking disgusting already?? It’s been weeks!” Minhyuk’s voice is all pure frustration and despair. “Get over it!” 

“But he’s the love of my life!” Wonho yells without missing a beat and Kihyun nearly doubles with laughter and affection, because Wonho says a love declaration in a way that’s both annoyed as fuck and soft as a baby duckling and also looks the part, “Now go choke on Hyungwon’s dick while we declare our everlasting love to each other!”

“We’re moving!” Minhyuk manages to yell back before there’s a yelp and a slap, and Hyungwon’s muffled “ _ no, we’re not, shut the hell up, _ ” before it’s quiet all over again. 

“Trust them to ruin the moment,” Wonho sighs and splays his hands over the expanse of Kihyun’s thighs. His hands are warm, insides calloused and so, so familiar. An anchoring weight that turns into a slow drag of blunt nails, leaving faint, red lines. 

“We had a moment?” Kihyun tilts his head to the side and shifts a little, makes himself more comfortable even as Wonho’s jeans rub unpleasantly against his skin. Wonho’s fingers twitch lightly before they press into his legs ever so; more out of reflex and less out of intent, but it all makes Kihyun’s smile turn a little less soft, and a whole more wicked. 

Wonho takes about half a second to catch up and the light in his eyes changes, turns more dark and promising and Kihyun feels his skin tingle pleasantly. “Why yes, we did, didn’t you notice?” He asks and oh yeah, there’s that familiar pitch, that sand over velvet Kihyun loves to hear. 

He reaches down, plucks Wonho’s shirt out from underneath his belt, slips his hands underneath. 

“You must have been too subtle,” he feels the muscles tense and quiver under his hands, harder planes under soft skin, “Probably the first time in your life too, huh?” 

“You’re a little shit, you know that?” Wonho sighs, over-dramatic and so fake, “Why do you I love you anyway?”

Well, then.

Kihyun grins, leans forward; pushes Wonho’s shirt up, feels the way goosebumps raise all over his skin when exposed to the air. Wonho’s hands curl at the back of his thighs, fingers digging into the skin - harder this time, much harder, he’s going to leave imprints and it sends a zing of pleasure up Kihyun’s spine - when Kihyun is close enough for their mouths to brush. Before he manages to say anything, Wonho steals a kiss; a quick, dirty one that’s all tongue and teeth and manages to leave them both slightly breathless. 

Kihyun feels himself flush hot all over, feels Wonho shift underneath him, and spread his own legs a little, to accommodate both Kihyun’s weight and the way they’re slowly becoming hard.

“Cause I’m _ your _ little shit and you like that,” Kihyun whispers finally and feels Wonho’s mouth curve into a smile against his, his eyelids fluttering when Kihyun grinds down a little. “Now shut up and let me show you  _ exactly  _ why.” 

\---

Wonho’s running late for breakfast the next morning and it’s Saturday, so it’s the big kind of a breakfast, a family one, with Changkyun half asleep at the table and Jooheon helping carry food trays and dishes and bowls. 

He comes in when everyone’s in the middle of the meal, half asleep and all out of it, but he stumbles to Kihyun, reaches out to tile his head up, and presses a good morning kiss to Kihyun’s lips.

“Hi,” he mutters and they both ignore the gagging noise Minhyuk makes before Shownu shoves a piece of galbi in his mouth. Hyungwon laughs at that and Kihyun’s almost distracted by what their friends are doing, but Wonho speaks out then, “Good morning, I love you.” 

“Oh my god, this is the best” Jooheon not-quite-whispers from the other side of the table, eyes wide mouth slightly open and Kihyun just shakes his head at him, reaches across with his chopsticks, and taps Jooheon on his chin lightly. 

“Close your mouth and eat your damn breakfast,” he says as Wonho squeezes himself into a seat next to him, eagerly helping himself to the food that’s still left. 

The kid’s right though, Kihyun thinks as he scoops some rice from his bowl. He smiles to himself when Wonho - between one dish and another - leans in, rubs his nose against Kihyun’s temple. It really is the best. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.   
> This just happened. 
> 
> thank you for my [ softest child](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepoverwork) in existence for beta'ing.

**Author's Note:**

> I pretty much ran out of excuses for this one. 
> 
> Enjoy. 
> 
> Gift work for Kaine and Mari, cause they're the best kind of torn in my side.
> 
> Tags will be updated as the story goes.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Other Side Of You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632214) by [shadyhon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadyhon/pseuds/shadyhon)




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